


Into Your Arms

by moose_misses_sweets



Category: Star Trek
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bipolar Disorder, Cutting, Depression, Domestic Violence, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Eating Disorders, F/M, Flashbacks, Heavy Angst, Hospitalization, Hospitals, How Do I Tag, I swear it has a happy ending, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Leonard "Bones" McCoy is a Good Friend, Medical Examination, Medical Procedures, Medicine, Needles, Now with a soundtrack!, POV McCoy, POV Original Character, POV Original Female Character, Physical Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, References to Depression, Self-Harm, Sloooooow Burn, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Stockholm Syndrome, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Triggers, You Have Been Warned, actually no it is basically stockholm syndrome, just trust me, kind of, lmao this was supposed to be 25 chapters, seriously it takes forever
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2019-06-06 03:37:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 32
Words: 32,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15185897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moose_misses_sweets/pseuds/moose_misses_sweets
Summary: A Leonard McCoy (reboot)/OC fanfic*Some scars, not even a doctor can heal. And Ailith Wood has quite a few scars.*"Leonard found himself wondering why he cared so much about Ailith. She certainly was beautiful, exquisite even, yet Leonard knew that wasn't it. He didn't necessarily see her in that way - although he could imagine it happening in the future. Maybe it was because of the vulnerable look in her eyes; or how every smile seemed to hide a certain sadness; or the way she seemed so unapologetically herself, even under all the hurt."*"And I hope to God you'll listenAnd you'll keep me safe from harm'Cause I found what I was missingWhen I fell into your arms"





	1. A/N PLEASE READ

Hi! Welcome to Into Your Arms. This is a Star Trek Leonard "Bones" McCoy (reboot version)/Original Female Character fanfic.

A few warnings:  
This story may be very triggering. Here are the topics mentioned in this story. If you believe this story may trigger you, please do not read! You have been warned.

  * Depression
  * Suicide (attempt)
  * Self-harm (cutting)
  * Domestic abuse/violence (physical)
  * Eating disorders
  * Blood
  * Hospitalization
  * Needles
  * Bipolar disorder
  * Implied/referenced rape/non-con
  * Strong language
  * Feelings



Y'all, Imma tell ya right now, this story is pretty heavy. It deals with some major issues, and if you're not down for that, then please leave. I am not trying to take advantage of these things in any way; in fact, it's just the opposite, I've struggled with many of these things myself and would like to show the ugly truth of it all. But if you are not interested in that, then please leave.

Chapters will be between 800 and 1200 words usually. There are some shorter ones and some longer ones, but not too many (except for near the middle, those are pretty long but not crazy). I will try to update every two days, although I might forget... whoops. I've edited the first couple chapters quite a bit already, but this story is far from perfect and I am not the best writer in the world, by far. So bear with me as I attempt to make something beautiful that y'all can enjoy!

I may be adding a playlist-type-thingy to this story at some point, so watch out for that (I do have a sort of theme song for the whole book, which is called "Help" by the group Hurts. That song also inspired the name of this story)!

As always, please keep your comments kind. I do take criticism, as long as it's constructive and not demeaning in any way! Comment if you enjoy, and follow me for updates!

Here are some resources if you struggle with any of the things listed above or anything else:  http://www.buddy-project.org/hotlines/

Thank you so much for reading; I hope you enjoy Into Your Arms!


	2. solidation

**solidation (n.) the relief of feeling wholly understood by another**

There wasn't really anything to wake you up in the morning on a starship. No gentle sunbeams cascading through windows, no tiny birds chirping outside, no annoying landscapers deciding to mow the lawn at an ungodly hour. Unless you had the lights programmed to fade in at a certain time, you were pretty much going to sleep until your body decided you've had enough. Most people programmed the lights.

I didn't. I preferred to let my mind jolt itself awake after chasing off the nightmares. Not that I slept much anyway.

There was not really any concept of time, either. When you were sound asleep, there were plenty of other people just across the hall that were waking up. The shifts were arranged pretty well so that no station was ever left unattended. But forget about trying to sync your watch up with any time zone on Earth. What with all the astronomical anomalies and time warping, there was basically no hope of ever having the correct time. It was like having extended jet lag, headache (usually) included. Thankfully, all of the PADDs were synced to the same time, which gave the crew somewhat of a baseline.

8:00 am. That's what my alarm was set for. Usually, I woke up before then, shaking and sweating from the terrors of the night.

Last night had been rough. I couldn't exactly remember the nightmare, but it was one of the worst I had had in a while. But Charlie was there, like always, to hold me close and whisper sweet nothings in my ear.

Charlie Myers was a peculiar man. With dark hair swept up and to the side, wild green eyes always presenting shadows under them, and a jawline that could cut a man, he was basically a supermodel. But with great looks came great hardship, or so he told me. Women couldn't stop batting their eyelashes at him or bending over just a little too far, even if we were walking arm-in-arm or, God forbid, making out. But for some reason, Charlie Myers, almost-supermodel, had chosen me, little broken Ailith Wood, as his girl. It was the eighth wonder of the world.

But under the good looks and charming demeanor, a monster was lurking in Charlie Myers. And I had made it my goal to appeal to his monster with my own.

When I eventually fell back asleep last night, it was only for a few minutes. The incessant beeping of my alarm jolted me out of a light slumber, nearly knocking Charlie off the bed in the process. He woke with a quick yelp as I accidentally elbowed him in the stomach.

I reached across him, hit the button on my PADD to reset the alarm, and fell back onto his chest. He tangled his fingers into my hair, breathing deeply. "Morning, sweetheart," he murmured, the vibrations of his chest against my ear.

"G'morning." My voice was drowsy and gravelly as I picked myself up and rested my legs on either side of him. I gave him a small kiss, feeling him smile under my lips. When I drew away, his eyes were glowing with joy but still drooping from sleep. "We have to get ready," I said, climbing off of him and out of the bed.

"But I don't want to," Charlie whined, rolling over onto his side.

I threw a pillow at his face. "Child," I mumbled as I walked to the bathroom to change, uniform in hand. Upon closing the door, I rested up against it and let out a long breath through pursed lips. As the nightmare threatened to creep back into my consciousness, I shook my head and began to strip down out of my pajamas. When I was left in only my underwear, I looked into the wall-length mirror and took in my appearance.

There were, of course, the ever-present dark circles gracing my under eyes. Further down, on my jaw, a purple-blue bruise. And on my arms; long, straight fingers of the same shade. I let out another sigh and turned my back on the mirror.

Charlie always apologized for hurting me. He said it wasn't his fault, that he didn't have control over his actions. I didn't blame him; his dad had done the same thing to him. Plus, he always made up for it later in bed.

I didn't mind having to cover up the bruises. He loved me, and I, him. That's all that mattered.

I pulled my red uniform over my head and walked over to the counter. I looked at the razor laying to the side, debating on whether or not to use it today, but a knock on the door swept the thought away.

"Ailith, sweetheart? Can I come in?" Charlie's voice drifted to my ears.

"Yeah," I called back, drawing my eyes away from the blade and sweeping my long mouse-brown hair up into a high ponytail.

Charlie opened the door and smiled at me through the mirror above the counter. He came up behind me and wrapped my arms around my waist, stooping down to plant a kiss on my neck. He nodded to the blade as I dabbed some concealer on the bruises on my arms. "Need it today?" he asked.

I shook my head and rubbed the makeup in, leaving the marks nearly invisible. "I don't think so. Plus, I wouldn't have time to clean up."

Charlie nodded and kissed my jaw, right over the bruise. "Sorry about that," he murmured.

I didn't respond, just pushed his head out of the way with a breathy laugh and covered up the mark. He watched as I put some more concealer under my eyes, his arms still encircling my waist. His face still carried a trace of tiredness, but his eyes were as wild and awake as ever.

Once I had finished covering everything with makeup, I leaned back into his chest and closed my eyes. "I really don't want to work today," I groaned.

"I know. I wish we could stay here, just us two."

I nodded and let out a long breath, finally pulling away from him. "I'll meet you in the mess hall."

Charlie flashed me a small smile and replied, "Sure. Love ya."

"Love you too."


	3. misanthrope

**misanthrope (n.) a person who dislikes humankind and avoids human society**  
I left the room quickly and quietly, first checking the hallway to make sure no one was present. I had stayed in Charlie’s room last night, so I needed to be extra cautious. When he stayed in my room, then I could come and go as I pleased, but that was not the case for the opposite. Seeing that the coast was clear, I made off down the hallway, feigning a purposeful step. As I approached the mess hall, the sound of talking grew gradually louder. Even standing outside the doors, I could tell that it was busy with hungry cadets and officers alike. I steeled myself and entered the hall.

  
I was immediately bombarded by ceaseless chatter. The sound was almost overwhelming, but I placed a hand on my chest and took a deep breath to calm myself.

  
I was never a fan of crowds. There was way too much information to process, too many searching eyes, too many voices all fighting for precedence as they beat against my eardrums. But as a crew member on the USS Enterprise, eventually, you’d have to get used to the crowds, or at least find a way to cope with them.

  
I knew that the first few minutes in the mess hall would be difficult. They always were. I was alone, which meant that there was no one and nothing to distract me from how comfortable everyone else seemed. I was like a fish out of water, slowly dying on the shore. The only person that could for sure throw me back into the sea was Charlie, and he wouldn’t be here until he was ready for the day. So, I was on my own for now.

  
Intent on distracting myself, I walked over to the serving counter and passed my ID under the scanner. My PADD gave out a little beep of recognition, logging that I had received one portion of my rations for the day. I moved down the counter to receive the tray, which contained a plate and a small bowl, both covered. Turning around to face the crowded hall again, I sucked in a deep breath and scanned the room for an empty table. There was one in the far back corner, and I hastily made my way over to it, walking as close to the wall as possible to avoid any unnecessary interaction. I sat down at the seat closest to the corner, allowing me clear view of both the doors and the rest of the mess hall.

  
I felt safer now that I was partially secluded and could see everything and everyone in the room. I spotted some of my former classmates a few tables away, chattering happily as they stuffed their faces. For a second, my heart ached with a seemingly misplaced longing, but I pushed the feeling away quickly.

  
I shoved the tray aside and pulled my PADD out. The screen displayed one unread message from the medbay. I could tell that it was an automated message, so not a personal contact.

  
_Lieutenant Wood,_

  
_Thank you for serving on the USS Enterprise! We’re glad to have you as part of the crew. That being said, it is vital to our success that each member of the crew attends a physical examination every six months._

  
_You are being notified to inform you that your last physical was (date unavailable), which means it’s been (time unavailable) since your last exam. Please come to the medbay at the indicated time so that we can ensure that everyone on the ship remains happy and healthy!_

  
_An appointment has been scheduled for (Ailith Wood), (tomorrow) (10:00 am)._

  
_Many thanks,_

  
_The medbay staff_

  
This wasn’t my first message of this kind. I’d been on the Enterprise for a little over 8 months now, and I still hadn’t gone in for my physical. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t scared of needles or anything. I just didn’t want anyone to see the scars or the bruises that never failed to appear. Not to mention how underweight I was.

  
There was a short paragraph after the sign-off that seemed to be separate from the automated message. I glanced over it quickly before letting out a groan when I saw who it was from.

  
_Lieutenant Wood,_

  
_It has come to my attention that you have not attended a physical during your time on the Enterprise. This kind of behavior will not be tolerated, and I request that you come down to the medbay at your nearest convenience or at the time indicated above. If you do not attend the appointment tomorrow, be aware that I will be forced to take authoritative action as I deem necessary. Captain Kirk has already been notified of this situation._

  
_Please note that this is merely to ensure the safety of the entire crew. If you have any questions or concerns, feel free to contact me via PADD or on the bridge between 9 am and 10 pm today._

  
_Thank you._

  
_-Leonard McCoy, Chief Medical Officer_

  
If the CMO was contacting me, then I was already in big trouble. And he’d notified the captain? Who does that? Dick.

  
But what could they do? They needed consent or whatever, right?

  
I sighed and tapped out of the message. I browsed through the PADD to find something to do while I waited for Charlie.

  
I always found ways to avoid the physical. The first time, I was needed in Engineering to help Scotty out with some hardware, so it was a no-brainer that medbay had signed off on me delaying the appointment. For the reschedule, I simply didn’t go. Then the staff canceled the reschedule of the reschedule, due to overcrowding in the medbay (some sort of viral outbreak). It was pretty easy from that point on to just not go to the appointments. I hadn’t dropped dead from any infection yet, so I wasn’t in dire need of a physical. No one had really questioned it either. That is, until now.

  
“Hey,” a deep voice said from above me. I looked up from my PADD to see Charlie, dressed in his blue uniform, smiling. He took a seat across the table from me and began to wolf down the food on his tray.

  
I immediately felt the tension leave my shoulders as he smiled at me. Now I didn’t have to worry about distracting myself from the crowd; Charlie could do that for me. “Don’t you look dapper,” I giggled, pushing my own tray to him.

  
Charlie grinned a bit, his eyes glowing. “Why, thank you,” he said through a mouthful of something that looked like bread. “Not looking bad yourself.”

  
I hit his arm across the table playfully and laughed. “Shut up, Mr. Right.” I looked down at my PADD again and opened up the message from the medbay. Without a word, I forwarded the message to Charlie’s PADD.

  
He raised an eyebrow as he opened the message, looking confused. The expression softened to one of knowingness as he read through, then returned with a frown as he reached the second part from McCoy. He let out a groan and took another bite of the bread-like substance. “So, they’ve stepped up their game, eh?”

  
I shrugged.

  
Charlie continued, “Are you going to go?”

  
“Course not,” I scoffed. “What’s the worst they can do? They can’t check anything if they don’t have my consent, right?”

  
Charlie glanced at me with an unsure glint in his eyes. “I don’t know about that, Lith.”

  
I brushed the comment off and Charlie continued to eat. My PADD let out a small beep and I looked down to see another unread message. This one was from Scotty. I skimmed through it then stood up. “Well, it seems I’m needed. I’ll see you later, okay?” I patted Charlie on the shoulder.

  
He let out a grunt, mouth still full, and turned his attention back to his tray.

  
I made my way out of the mess hall quickly, keeping my head low to avoid awkward eye contact or confrontation. As I was nearing the door, a hand landed on my shoulder and my hopes of escaping swiftly were dashed.


	4. drapetomania

**drapetomania (n.) an overwhelming urge to run away**

I turned on one foot slowly to see my offender. He was tall and dark haired, with a seemingly permanent scowl slapped on his face and striking hazel eyes. _Dammit,_ I thought to myself.

“Lieutenant Wood,” Dr. McCoy said, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Dr. McCoy,” I nodded to him respectfully. His hand was still firmly on my shoulder, anchoring me to my spot. I hoped he couldn’t hear my heartbeat pounding.

“Did you receive my message?” he asked politely.

I nodded and swallowed nervously. Social interaction wasn’t exactly my strongest skill, especially with my superiors.

“Good. I expect to see you again today or tomorrow.” His hand fell from my shoulder and he turned to walk away.

I watched him leave and then left the mess hall. Seeing no one around, I took a moment to lean against the wall and catch my breath. My heart was still pounding in my ears, leaving me winded and sweating slightly. “Shit,” I murmured to myself through labored breaths.

When I had regained my composure, I wiped the sweat off my brow and continued down the hallway to Engineering, trying to make my steps looks purposeful. Even though I tried to convince myself that no one was staring at me, I couldn’t help the feeling that each person I passed was questing my every move.

I think I made it to Engineering in record time, but that may have just been my imagination. When I got down there, Scotty was busy tapping numbers into his PADD.

He looked up when he heard my footsteps. “‘Ello, lassie,” he said kindly, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

“Good morning, Scotty,” I returned with a small nod. “What do you need?”

Scotty handed me his PADD and explained that one of the consoles on the bridge was acting up. I looked down at the stats pulled up and tried to focus on his words, but I was a bit distracted. I’d never worked on the bridge before.

“Ya alright, lass?” Scotty questioned, his voice a little louder than before.

I shook my head to clear my thoughts and looked back up at him. “Yeah, yeah, sorry,” I said hurriedly. “I’ve just… never been to the bridge before.”

Scotty flashed me a quick smile and took his PADD from my hands. “I’m sure ya can find your way. And the captain ain’t as intimidating as ‘e may seem, ‘e’s jus’ a big ol’ child most of the time. Better watch out fer that first officer, though, ‘e can be a bit ‘arsh sometimes.”

I nodded and thanked him, then set off for the bridge, PADD and toolkit in hand. It was easy enough to figure out the way there, but I took my time to gather my thoughts. I ran through the list of people I knew would be on the bridge.

Captain Kirk. I’d seen him around the ship more than a few times, and he always seemed like a nice guy. But he probably wouldn’t even bother to talk to me, other than to allow me on the bridge.

Spock. I’d met a few Vulcans before, and although they seemed pretty intimidating, they weren’t completely rude or anything. I hoped Spock would be the same. Then again, he would probably be too busy to notice me.

Sulu. Never met him, but he seemed okay.

Chekov. Adorable. Harmless. Might try to talk to me, though.

Uhura. Tough exterior, softie inside. We’d met during the introductory courses at Star Fleet Academy.

That just left… McCoy. Dammit. I just couldn’t get away from the man, could I?

I stepped aboard the lift that would carry me to the bridge. As the lift shot upwards, I took in a deep breath. I couldn’t delay this any longer.

Hey, maybe McCoy wouldn’t even talk to me.

Fat chance.

The doors to the lift slid open and the bright lights of the bridge hit my face.

Along with every single pair of eyes in the room.

“Permission to board the bridge?” I asked, my voice unsteady. I could feel my PADD shaking in my hands, so I put it behind my back to hide it.

“Permission granted,” Captain Kirk said from the chair in the center of the room. “I assume you’re the engineer sent to come fix the computer?”

I nodded as I stepped inside, the doors to the lift closing behind me. “Yes sir.”

Kirk pointed vaguely to a console where Uhura sat. “It’s that one.”

I began to walk over to the console, my head down, but Kirk’s voice stopped me once again.

“What’s your name, Lieutenant? I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you before.”

“Wood, Sir. Lieutenant Ailith Wood,” my voice was shaking unbelievably now. I couldn’t believe he hadn’t pointed it out yet.

But he just nodded and said, “Nice to meet you. And thanks for coming up. I’m Kirk. Jim Kirk.”

As if I didn’t know.

I turned on my heel again and continued toward the console. I looked around a little, just trying to gain a sense of my surroundings. Most of the crew had averted their eyes by now, back to work. The bridge was smaller than expected, and there were many more people in here than I predicted. There was Spock, looking over Sulu’s shoulder curiously. And Chekov, struggling to input a verbal activation code. I looked around at all the equipment, hands still shaking, until my eyes landed on the Captain’s chair again. McCoy was standing next to Kirk, talking in a hushed tone. As I watched the interaction, McCoy’s eyes flicked to my own and held my gaze. I tore my eyes away, cheeks burning as I hung my head and continued over to Uhura.

When I arrived, Uhura turned around and flashed me a quick smile. “Hey Ailith. Think you can get this thing working again?” She gestured to her console.

I nodded shyly and set down my toolkit on the floor. As I worked, Uhura spun in her chair, taking in the room. I shook my head and laughed quietly to myself. She looked so comfortable here, even surrounded by the Captain and all these people. Even at the academy, I’d envied her ability to make friends so easily.

Eventually, everything on the console seemed to be back in order. I stood up and dusted my hands off, then said, “You should be good to go. Try it out.”

Uhura nodded and put on a headset. She punched in a few codes and such, then smiled at me. “Looks good. Thanks, Lith.”

I picked up my toolkit and PADD and tried to make my way to the lift quickly. Unfortunately, the Captain had other plans for me.

“Lieutenant Wood!”

I gritted my teeth and spun on my heel, trying to look like I wasn’t about to go into cardiac arrest. “Yes, Captain?”

He gestured for me to come closer. I obliged, noticing again that McCoy was standing near him, staring me down. When I’d stepped as close to Kirk’s chair as I dared, he spoke again.

“Dr. McCoy here tells me that you haven’t had a physical yet. Is that right?”

I nodded, feeling my cheeks grow hot again. “Yes, sir. I was-” I began but he cut me off with a wave of his hand.

“I don’t need your excuses, Lieutenant, just a promise that you’ll go and get checked out in the next day or two.” His piercing blue eyes were kind but firm.

I nodded silently once more. I could feel McCoy’s eyes burning into me as Kirk dismissed me and I turned to exit. I left the bridge as quickly as possible.


	5. alharaca

******alharaca (n.) an extraordinary or violent emotional reaction to a small issue**

I flopped down on the bed with a groan.

“Rough day?” Charlie said through a mouthful of toothpaste. He was leaning in the doorway of the bathroom, wearing only a pair of flannel pajama pants.

“Yeah,” I muttered, burying my face in a pillow. “That stupid CMO wouldn’t leave me alone.”

I heard the tap running and then the lights dimmed. The bed dipped to my side. Charlie started rubbing circles on my back comfortingly. “I know you’re going to hate me for saying this but… you should probably go to that physical tomorrow, sweetheart.”

I rolled over and met his eyes with disbelief. “Are you kidding me? Not after what happened. I can’t let anyone see…” my voice trailed off.

Charlie nodded in understanding. “You’ll just have to lie. That’s what we’ve always done, right?”

I nodded slowly. The bruises were going to raise some questions. I’d need a really good story to divert the attention from them. But there was still something that I couldn’t exactly explain away easily. “What about…” I rubbed my forearms.

Charlie smiled softly and rolled up my sleeves. Without a word, he began to kiss each and every scarred line. Finished with my right arm, he moved to the left, and when he’d kissed each one there, he moved to my lips.

His kiss grew hungry, aggressive, as he pinned me underneath him, pushing his hips against my own. I wrapped my hands around his neck, allowing him to take control. I breathed his name as he moved his lips to my jaw, right over the day-old bruise.

He grunted in response and trapped my lips with his own again, leaving me unable to speak. His hands gripped my shoulders tightly and he pressed himself on top of me even further, so much that I could barely move.

He bit my bottom lip and I yelped a bit in pain, not expecting it. My hands fell from his neck and tried to pull at his shirt. “Charlie, stop,” I managed to sputter as his fingernails dug into my shoulders.

His lips broke from my own aggressively and he hovered above me, panting. “What did you say?” he growled.

I thought he was playing around, as I couldn’t see his expression in the darkened room. I let out a small, breathless laugh.

Then a sharp pain spread through my face as his palm came in contact with my cheek. I gasped and he pinned me down completely, legs on either side of my own. “I’ll stop when I want to,” his voice was dark and gravelly as his palm landed on my cheek again. He wrapped a hand around my head and swiftly pulled me up to meet his lips in another fierce kiss.

Finally, I gathered my strength and pushed my hands against his chest, sending him toppling backward and off the bed. A dull thud sounded before I stood up quickly and grabbed my bag from where it had been abandoned on the floor. As I crossed in front of the bed, Charlie groaned and struggled to stand.

I left his room before I could regret any of my decisions.

As I made my way to my own room, tears made their way down my stinging cheeks. I brought my hand up to wipe them away swiftly, lingering on the place where Charlie had hit me.

This was my fault. I shouldn’t have told him to stop. He must’ve had a bad day. I’ll apologize tomorrow.

The halls of the ship were mostly empty, as it was around dinner time for almost half of the crew. I didn’t see anyone I knew before I reached my room. Not even bothering to take off my uniform, I collapsed on my bed and was asleep before I could dwell on the day any longer.


	6. vacillate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven't updated in a bit, I didn't have access to my computer for a few days! Enjoy the new chapter :)

**vacillate (v.) waver between different opinions or actions; be indecisive**

The incessant beeping of my alarm woke me from deep slumber. I got out of bed with a groan, my limbs aching in protest. I went to my dresser to grab a fresh uniform, eyes still heavy. Once inside the bathroom, I turned on the tap to splash some cold water in my face. I grabbed a white towel to wipe off the moisture.

When I looked back down at the towel, it was stained deep crimson. I looked up into the mirror and saw a face covered in blood.

The incessant beeping of my alarm woke me from restless sleep. I sat up with a jolt, bringing my hand to my face. I let out a sigh of relief when it came back clean. Just another nightmare.

I picked up my PADD to check for new messages. Usually I’d get up and change right away, but I needed to calm my heartbeat before I could stand.

There was one message from Charlie, sent at 5:46 this morning.

_Lith,_

_I’m sorry about last night. I don’t know what came over me. I’ll see you tonight, okay?_

_Love you,_

_Charlie_

I let out a heavy breath. Good thing he was okay. I’d still have to apologize for how I acted, though.

There was another message from Scotty, sent at 7:40.

_Good morning, lass. Feel free to come down a bit later today. Things are slow, plus I know you have your appointment today._

_-Scotty_

Appointment? What…

Oh. Crap.

That was the last message. Another automated one from the medbay.

_Lieutenant Wood,_

_This message is to remind you that your six-month physical is (today) at (10 am). Please come to medbay at least 10 minutes prior to your appointment to ensure that we can fit you into our busy schedule!_

_Many thanks,_

_The medbay staff_

I groaned to myself and looked over at my clock. 8:14. I had an hour and a half to figure out what I was going to do about this.

I laid back down in bed, using my arms as a pillow. I could avoid the appointment like I’d always done. Then I wouldn’t have to worry about them finding the bruises or scars. But McCoy himself had told me that this was basically the last straw. What would happen if I didn’t go? The uncertainty sent my stomach rolling.

I guess if I went, I could just make up a story for the bruises. That’d be easy enough. And the scars… I could probably think of something for that too. But even if they did find out the real story, what could they do? They couldn’t force me to talk to someone about it or anything. Right? Plus, if I went to the exam, I wouldn’t get in any more trouble than I was already in.

The clock now read 8:27. Having made up my mind, I rolled out of bed and grabbed a change of clothes from my dresser. I opted for just a pair of leggings and a long, tunic-like green shirt. It went well with my hair, which I braided in one long strand down my back. I didn’t even bother covering up the bruises or scars on my arms, as they were covered by the long sleeves of my shirt. The bruise on my neck would be found quickly by the med staff, so it was pointless in concealing it at all. When I finished getting ready, the clock said 8:58. Every minute that went by seemed to drag me closer and closer to an invisible pit in my mind.

My stomach rumbled with hunger, and I remembered that I hadn’t eaten since lunch yesterday. Usually, Charlie and I would have eaten dinner in the mess hall together, but after the whole situation last night, I’d forgotten to eat anything. Nevertheless, my mind said that I wasn’t hungry.

The walk to the medbay took about 3 minutes, which meant I had to leave by 9:47 to be on time. So, I had 49 minutes to… what? Scotty didn’t need me in Engineering, I wasn’t exactly hungry, and Charlie would be busy eating breakfast by now.

I sat down gingerly on the edge of my bed, thinking. That was dangerous.

My mind immediately jumped to last night. The stinging pain in my cheek, the mark from Charlie that had faded overnight. The feeling of 10 tiny daggers as his fingernails dug into my shoulders. The crushing weight of his hips and chest on my own.

Before I knew it, I was up and running to the bathroom. I dry-heaved into the toilet, as there was nothing in my system, but still felt the acid burn in my throat.

I returned to my room, casting a quick glance at the clock. 9:10.

I took my hair out of the braid and redid it. 9:14.

I checked my PADD for new messages. There were none. 9:15.

I changed into a blue shirt, decided I liked the green one better, and threw it back on. 9:21.

I walked to the bathroom and just stared at my face. But the longer I did that, the more the bruise on my jaw seemed to swell and writhe about, like some sort of creature trapped under my skin. I left the bathroom. 9:30.

I tidied up my nightstand, or at least what little lay on top of it. 9:33.

I sat back down on the edge of my bed with my PADD. I pulled up a game of Sudoku (Charlie had hacked the tablet so that I could put games on it) and set the level to Expert. I’d only filled in four boxes when the clock finally read 9:46.


	7. eccedentesiast

**eccedentesiast (n.) someone who only pretends to smile**

I turned my PADD off, put it away in my nightstand, and left my room. Surprisingly, I didn’t feel too nervous. My bruises were already exposed, so it’s not like I was hiding anything. The only thing I had to worry about was bumping into someone who would make me late.

The ship seemed to be quiet today. Most of the crew were probably hard at work already, if it was their shift. If not, they’d be sleeping by now.

I made it to the medbay as I expected, at exactly 9:50. I’d never been here before, having refused all jobs in Engineering that required me to come down, although I’d passed it plenty of times on the way to other jobs. Inside, it smelled of sterility and cough syrup. The scent burned my nostrils. The lights seemed too bright, the atmosphere too heavy and too light at the same time.

My hands started shaking as I crossed through the doorway, and I quickly clasped them together behind my back. Unsure of where to go, I stood awkwardly just inside the doors. A few nurses passed by me before one stopped and asked what I was there for.

“Um,” I started quietly, “I’m supposed to have a physical at 10 today?” The statement came out as more of a question.

The nurse just nodded and looked down at a PADD, saying, “Name?”

“Wood, Ailith.”

She nodded again and typed something into the PADD. “You can have a seat over on that biobed.” She gestured to a bed against the wall closest to us. “Dr. McCoy should be over in a few moments.”

Crap. I thought he’d have one of these lackeys do it instead.

I walked over to the biobed, hands still behind my back, and jumped up onto it. It was a bit difficult, as I was somewhat vertically challenged, but I managed. My legs hung over the side, not even touching the floor. Damn tall people.

There weren’t many patients in the medbay that I could see, and the ones I did see were just small injuries. I overheard one redshirt sporting a darkening bruise on his cheek and nose say that he’d tripped. I scoffed. He’d obviously been punched in the face, and it seemed as if the nurse suspected the same. I chuckled a bit to myself, not noticing the tall man that had approached my bedside.

“Something funny?” his voice said with a hint of amusement.

Startled, I jumped away from the source of the voice, feeling my heart race.

“Hey, easy there. Just me.” Dr. McCoy flashed me a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “How are you?” he asked politely, picking up a nearby PADD.

I watched him nervously before responding quietly, “Fine.”

His eyes traveled to the bruise on my jaw. He reached his hand up, but I flinched away from his touch. “What happened there?” he questioned with a frown.

“Tripped and smacked it on my dresser,” I lied, averting my eyes. Hopefully my fib came off better than the redshirt I had seen earlier.

McCoy hummed thoughtfully. “May I?” His hand was still hovering over the discolored spot.

I paused, then nodded my head slightly, still avoiding his piercing gaze.

His fingers were warm against my skin, probing it gently. “You must have fallen pretty hard, huh?”

I didn’t respond, instead allowing my mind to wander back to the night it had happened. The feeling of Charlie’s fist connecting with my jaw was still fresh in my memory. I shivered a bit, the shock I had felt then returning.

McCoy noticed but didn’t say anything about it. Instead, he removed his hand and said coolly, “I’m going to need you to lie down.”

I hesitated for a moment but followed the order as he flashed me a “don’t-do-anything-stupid” look. What little confidence I had when I walked down to the medbay had dissipated long ago, leaving me running on nervous adrenaline. The heart rate monitor attached to the biobed reflected this, echoing the uneven beating of my heart.

McCoy furrowed his eyebrows at the monitor, a look of confusion crossing his face. “Strange,” he murmured.

“What is it?” The beeps coming from the monitor increased, sounding like a discombobulated band of drummers, “babeepbabumbeepbabumba.”

McCoy’s hand landed on my shoulder but his eyes were still glued to the monitor. “You’re going to have to calm down; I can’t get a clear reading on your heart.”

“Sorry.” I took a few deep breaths and the sounds from the monitor slowed.

McCoy still had a confused look on his face but now it was coupled with concern. He tapped the PADD a few times, then reached up to the monitor and pressed a button. The beeping stopped; he must have silenced it. He kept glancing up at the monitor, eyes focused, as he entered more information into the PADD. Seemingly finished with that, he put the tablet down on a nearby cart.

I began to sit up, thinking we were done, but McCoy grabbed my shoulder and pushed me back down. “Hold on a minute, darlin’. We’ve barely gotten started.”

I tried to ignore the fact that he called me “darling” and let out a rush of air. McCoy chuckled and picked up a tricorder. He held it over me and ran it up and down the length of my body. I tried to keep my breathing as steady as possible, to avoid letting my nerves get the better of me.

The doctor put down the tricorder again, tapped the PADD a few more times, then told me to wait there. He disappeared from view and came back only moments later with a pair of latex gloves and a small box of equipment. “I’ll have to take a blood sample, so you can sit up now.”

I did as he said so before the gravity of his words hit me. If he had to draw blood, he’d take it from my one of my arms. The arms that were riddled with scars.

McCoy sat on a stool in front of the bed and before I could protest, he had rolled up the sleeve on my left arm.


	8. immure

**immure (v.) to shut in; seclude or confine**

There they were, in all of their ugliness. A multitude of nearly-straight, faded lines stretching from my wrist to just below the crook of my elbow.

The look on McCoy’s face was unreadable. His gloved hand lingered on my arm, holding it upright. His eyes were fixed so fiercely on the scars that I thought he’d burn a hole right through the limb.

Without a word, he let go of my arm and pressed a button on the biobed. An opaque forcefield surrounded us, blocking out the rest of the medbay. Quickly and quietly, he inserted a thin needle from the box into my forearm, between two jagged lines, and attached a vial to the end of it. It filled up with my blood swiftly and McCoy removed the needle, a small drop of blood welling up from the puncture point. He wiped it away, put the vial in the box, and stood up. His face showed no emotion but his eyes betrayed a sense of pity and sadness and fear.

Well, this was fan-fucking-tastic.

Dr. McCoy breathed audibly and averted his eyes. “I have to run this to the lab,” he started quietly, “but I want to talk to you about some things. Wait here.” Without waiting for a response, he turned his back on me and walked through the forcefield, leaving me alone.

I waited a few moments until I was sure he was gone, then got up from the biobed and walked through the forcefield as well. Medbay was just as quiet as when I’d gotten here, but most of the patients had been replaced with a new wave. The dishonest redshirt was icing his cheek in the opposite corner, blushing profusely as a man who I assumed to be his superior pointed at him in anger.

My heart raced in my chest and pounded in my ears. I pulled down my sleeve as I left the medbay, my head hanging low. Tears found their way down my cheeks and I swiped them away angrily, confused as to why I was crying.

I went where my feet carried me, which turned out to be Charlie’s room. I knocked once, twice, three times and received no answer. Of course. He’d be at his shift by now. I punched his access code in and stumbled into the room.

I raced to the bathroom and began dry-heaving into the toilet, much like I had earlier. Not even having the physical strength or mental willpower to stand, I collapsed against the wall, sobs racking my body. I curled into myself, bringing my knees to my chest and wrapping my arms around them.

Stomach acid burned in my throat and my heart pounded in my ears, but nothing could overwhelm me as much as the thoughts racing through my mind.

He knew. He didn’t even have to ask, and he already knew what the scars were from. He was afraid of me, like everyone else.

This was why I hid the scars. They turned me into a monster, made people think of me as dangerous and untrustworthy. And now McCoy thought the same. He was just like everyone else.

This had to be a nightmare. It must have been. Through my sobs, I gasped out, “Wake up. Wake up.” I pinched my arms and slapped my cheeks, but nothing could wrench me out of this seemingly never-ending slumber. It couldn’t be real.

I wished Charlie was here. He would tell me that I was safe, that it was all going to be okay. He would hold me and rock me, and whisper words of comfort in my ear until the nightmare dissipated and my breathing slowed. Charlie would protect me from the pity and the sadness and the fear in McCoy’s eyes.

But Charlie wasn’t here and I couldn’t use my PADD to contact him, as I had left it in my own room, along with my comm. God, I was such a fucking idiot.

I choked on my own saliva, my vision going hazy as I continued to hyperventilate. My heart throbbed, physically hurting as it beat against my ribs. I clutched my chest and let out another gasping sob. I knew I had to do something or else I’d pass out. Slowly, I began to crawl across the floor to the bathroom counter, the tile cooling through my clothes.

When I reached the counter, I grabbed the edge and heaved myself up, leaning against it for support. My lungs felt like they were on fire and my heart still raged on, the pounding in my ears nearly deafening now. I reached across the counter for the one thing that might help me ground myself.

The metal was cool in my fingers as I scratched it across my arm with a shaky hand. A little river of crimson wound down my wrist and the sharp pain drew me back to myself. It was like all the pressure built up inside me was slipping out through the open cut, and I took in a deep breath. My vision cleared a bit and I was able to make the next cut more precise. I counted one, two, three, four lines until my vision was crystal clear and my lungs weren’t heaving with effort. The pounding in my head diminished to a dull throbbing.

I set the blade down on the counter again and ran my arm under the tap to clean off the extra blood. There was a roll of gauze to the side of the sink, and I picked it up and began to wrap my arm, each cut disappearing under a layer of pristine white. When all four were covered, I tucked the end inside one of the layers and left the bathroom, all my previous thoughts gone. My mind was completely and blissfully empty.

I headed to Charlie’s dresser and pulled out one of his sweatshirts. I threw it on over my head, relishing the faint scent of his cologne. I climbed into Charlie’s bed and wrapped each blanket around myself, cocooning my body until I was almost sweating from the heat. “Lights off,” I said into the air, and the lights dimmed until I was left in complete darkness. I stared into the pitch black until my eyes grew heavy and I succumbed to blissful sleep.


	9. parastin

**parastin (v.) to protect, to keep safe**

“Dammit, Jim, are you even listening to me at all?”

Jim Kirk swiveled around in his chair to face the stern-looking doctor. “Of course, I am, Bones. I just… what do you expect me to do? You said the scars looked faded right?”

Bones – Leonard – nodded. “There were some newer ones, too.”

“So, this has been going on for a while. Which means that if she wanted help, she would have come in earlier.” Jim sighed. “Obviously she doesn’t want help, so I don’t see what we can do. We can’t _force_ her to see a psychologist or anything.”

Leonard crossed his arms. “I can’t stand to watch her slowly kill herself, Jim. But even if she did get help, there’s more going on. Things that even she doesn’t know about.”

Jim looked around the bridge. It was quiet except for the gentle tapping of fingers on keyboards. “Let’s take this somewhere else, okay?” He stood and grabbed Leonard by the elbow, shouting over his shoulder, “Spock, you have the conn.”

The pair entered the lift just as Leonard pried his arm from Jim’s grasp. Once the doors had closed, Jim punched the button that would send the lift into an emergency stop. The lights dimmed as the lift stopped with a lurch.

“Talk, quickly,” Jim commanded, folding his arms across his chest.

Leonard leaned against the wall of the lift. “She’s got arrhythmia, Jim. It’s pretty serious, too. If she doesn’t get a pacemaker soon, her heart could stop completely.”

Jim furrowed his eyebrows. “Is it genetic?”

Leonard shook his head. “Not that I can tell. My guess is that it was caused by her improper eating habits. She’s severely underweight; her BMI is only 17.2.”

“Just up her rations then,” Jim suggested simply.

“Dammit, Jim,” Leonard growled, “she barely eats what she gets now. I saw her pass her breakfast the other day to some lab tech. Not to mention she didn’t show up for dinner at all last night or breakfast this morning.”

Jim rubbed his temples with his fingers. “Who’s the lab tech?” he said suddenly.

Leonard shrugged. “No idea. What does he have to do with this?”

Kirk punched the emergency stop button again and then the button for the bridge. The lights flickered on and the lift whirred to life. “Find out who he is. Maybe he knows how to get through to her.”

“Oh, so now you _do_ want to help her?” Leonard scoffed as the lift doors opened to the bridge.

Jim stepped outside and turned around to face the doctor again. “Listen, Bones. I know you’re not going to get anything done while you’re worried about this, so you better figure it out, and quickly. Find that lab tech.”

The lift doors closed again, leaving Leonard alone.

…

“Dr. McCoy, I have some paperwork for you to sign. Dr. McCoy?”

Leonard shook himself out of his thoughts and looked up from his desk to see a junior nurse holding out a stack of papers. “Oh, sorry. Yes, you can leave them here and I’ll get them back to you in a few minutes.”

The nurse smiled sweetly, set the papers on the edge of his desk, and walked toward the door.

“Wait,” Leonard called out. The nurse stopped and turned at his voice. “Do you know Lieutenant Ailith Wood?” He wasn’t quite sure why he’d asked this specific nurse, but maybe it was because she looked to be about the same age as the Lieutenant.

The nurse thought for a moment. A quick look of disgust passed over her face, then disappeared, but not before Leonard noticed. “I don’t know her, but I know _of_ her. She keeps to herself mostly, doesn’t really talk to anyone. Except Charlie.” A dreamy look came into her eyes and Leonard raised an eyebrow.

“Charlie?” he urged on, curious.

“Yeah, Charlie Myers. He’s one of the lab techs and apparently he’s Wood’s boyfriend as well.” The nurse frowned before muttering quietly, “Don’t know how that ever worked out.”

Leonard nodded and looked back down at his desk. “Thank you. You can go back to your duties.” He heard her footsteps and then the door closed. He pulled his PADD out of a drawer and opened up the staff database, entering “Charlie Myers” into the search bar. There was a result almost immediately. Glancing over the information, he spotted something in the notes from a physical exam from a few years back, when Myers was serving on the USS Valiant.

_Excellent physical health. No concerns._

_Violent tendencies. Presents symptoms of mild bipolar disorder, diagnosed by ship’s psychologist. Prescribed lithium to prevent mania._

As far as Leonard could tell, Myers hadn’t been to the ship’s psychologist in the eight months onboard the Enterprise. Leonard took this as a sign that either the disorder had been resolved or Myers had neglected to seek further treatment. He’d just have to ask the lab tech himself.


	10. tacenda

**tacenda (n.) things better left unsaid; matters to be passed over in silence**

“Hey.”

I woke to someone murmuring in my ear and a hand gently shaking me awake. “Wha-” I grumbled, rubbing my eyes. The lights were still dimmed, so I was just barely able to make out Charlie’s form hovering over me. “Oh. Hi,” I returned softly.

Charlie chuckled and called the lights up to 50 percent. I squinted a bit, but my eyes adjusted quickly. “What time is it?” I asked, trying to see the clock around Charlie’s figure.

“Just past one in the afternoon.”

“What are you doing back from your shift?”

“I’m on lunch break. I’ve only got a few more minutes.”

“Oh.”

Charlie sat on the edge of the bed hesitantly. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

I untangled myself from a mess of blankets and sat up, leaning against him. “I didn’t feel so good after the physical,” I murmured.

Charlie didn’t pry, so we sat quietly for a few moments. When we finally did speak, we both started at the same time.

“Listen, I-”

“I just wanted to-”

Charlie let out a breathy laugh and gestured for me to go first. “I wanted to apologize for last night,” I began, taking his hands in my own. “I shouldn’t have left. I’m sorry, Charlie.”

He shook his head. “No, Lith, _I’m_ sorry. I shouldn’t have acted like that and I shouldn’t have hit you. I’ll try to be better for you.” His eyes glistened with regret.

I pressed myself against his shoulder and squeezed his hands. “It’s okay, Charlie. We’ll be okay.”

After a few more moments of comfortable silence, Charlie planted a soft kiss on my forehead before glancing down at my wrist. “So, the physical didn’t go well, I take it?” He ran his thumb over the gauze on my arm.

I closed my eyes and sighed. “I don’t really want to talk about it.”

Charlie nodded. “Does he know?” The question was quiet but laced with tension.

My answer was just as nervously soft. “Yes.”

Charlie turned me toward him and pressed his lips against my jaw, a simple sign of understanding and comfort. His eyelashes fluttered across my cheeks as he spoke, “Promise me you’ll end this when you get the chance.”

I furrowed my eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“We’ve always said that when we decide to go, we’re going together.”

I leaned my forehead against his and sighed. “I know. But Charlie… I can’t.”

He grabbed my shoulders and broke the skin-to-skin contact between us, piercing green eyes looking into my own dark blue ones. “Yes, you can, Lith. We’ll do it together. I’ll be there with you, and afterward, I’ll be there, too. When we’re gone, I want us to be together. Forever. You just need to promise me.” He pulled me into his chest and rested his head on my neck, hot breath tickling my skin.

I wrapped my arms around his waist. “Okay, Charlie. I promise.”

“Thank you,” he murmured. “I love you, Ailith Wood.”

“I love you, Charlie Myers.”


	11. oneirataxia

**oneirataxia (n.) the inability to distinguish between fantasy and reality**

When we untangled ourselves from the close embrace, Charlie told me regretfully that he had to go back to his shift. I gave him a quick peck on the cheek and said goodbye.

Once alone, I found myself drifting back to sleep easily. Before I could even order the lights to turn off, I was trapped in a deep slumber.

No, seriously. Trapped.

I could feel myself on the bed, wrapped in the blankets. I could feel myself breathing, my lungs heaving with effort. I could feel my heart pounding against my ribs. But I couldn’t _see_.

And then I heard Charlie’s voice right next to my ear, speaking in a low, growling tone. “Can’t run away from me now, sweetheart.” Even if I couldn’t see it, I could hear the smirk in his voice.

 _Please, don’t!_ I tried to scream out, but my mouth didn’t even move.

“What should I do with you now that you’re all helpless, hmm? No fighting back, no screaming, just mine. All mine,” Charlie growled in my ear. I could feel his hands wandering down to my abdomen and the bed dipped as he sat on it.

I was completely paralyzed. I couldn’t kick him or push him away. I was, as he had said, helpless. Trapped.

A small part of my mind whispered that it wasn’t real, that it was just a nightmare, but the thought was swept away as a fist connected with my jaw. I yelped in pain but still couldn’t form any words. _Please, get away from me,_ I wanted to shout at Charlie. I could feel his hot breath on my neck.

There was another sharp snap of pain as he hit me again. Tears rolled down my cheeks, but my eyes were still clenched shut. I gasped and long fingers wrapped around my arms, squeezing until my own fingers went numb.

 _Move,_ I urged my body, trying to wake up my tingling limbs. _You have to move or he’ll hurt you. He’ll always hurt you._

The grip disappeared from around my arms and for a moment, I thought Charlie had left and I was safe. Then warm, strong hands were clasped around my throat and I struggled for air. I choked and tried to regain control of my lungs, but they too refused to listen to my pleas.

Just as I felt myself begin to slip away, I sat up with a jolt. My chest was heaving and a thin sheen of sweat was present on my brow. The sheets around me were damp with the moisture as well. There was no one else in the room.

I buried my head in my hands and tried to slow my breathing, but to no avail. It seemed as if my heart was beating so fast it might punch itself out of my chest. I glanced over at the clock and read it through blurry vision. 8:53. Charlie would be back soon.

It was just a nightmare. I didn’t have to worry about him. Sure, he had hurt me before, but he would never try to kill me like he did in the dream.

I laid back down and noticed that the lights were still slightly dimmed. “Lights, 100 percent,” I said, my voice cracking. The room brightened and I looked around again. Just double-checking.


	12. brontide

**brontide (n.) the low rumble of distant thunder**

Leonard knew the route to the lab well, having walked it on many occasions during his time on the Enterprise. It wasn’t long before he found himself standing outside the doors of the place in question. He entered without hesitation but felt strangely out of place with no samples in his hands or anything.

Once inside, he found the head technician fairly quickly. “Excuse me,” Leonard started as the man looked up. “Is Lieutenant Charlie Myers available to speak?”

The man checked a PADD and met Leonard’s eyes again. “He left for lunch break around ten minutes ago. If you can stick around, he should be back in a few. The samples you brought down earlier should be done soon as well. I can give them to you before you leave.”

Leonard nodded and thanked the man, heading over to a nearby bench to wait. He pulled out his PADD to pass the time and began to type up a message to Jim.

_Jim –_

_I found that lab tech – Charlie Myers. I’m waiting to talk to him now. Found some interesting things in his file as well. Do me a favor and don’t hurt yourself while I’m busy figuring this out._

Leonard sent the message and pulled up Myers’s file again.

Apparently, Myers had left the Valiant almost immediately after being diagnosed as bipolar. He spent a few months on Earth, studying, it seemed. Then nine months ago, he applied to be put on another ship, and a month later, he was assigned to the Enterprise. Nothing seemed too out of the ordinary, except for the lack of psychological care that would have been necessary for bipolarity.

Leonard knew that this encounter could go very poorly if he wasn’t careful. He would have to tread lightly.

Leonard glanced over Myers’s medical records again. Like the note had said, Myers was in excellent physical condition. The only part of him that was troubling was his mind.

“Dr. McCoy,” a voice came from above Leonard.

Leonard looked up to see a tall, youthful looking man with bright green eyes and dark hair.

“You wished to speak to me?” the man spoke again.

Leonard stood up and nodded. “You’re Lieutenant Myers?” He did a once-over of the Lieutenant. Myers’s posture screamed calmness and confidence, so unlike Wood. “Please, take a seat,” Leonard gestured to the bench, while he himself remained standing.

Myers sat down, back completely straight and arms resting on his lap. His movements seemed almost robotic, like they were forced. Leonard made a mental note of this before he began to speak.

“You know Lieutenant Ailith Wood, yes?”

Myers nodded, staring straight ahead. “Yes sir, she and I are very close.”

Leonard chose his next words carefully, speaking slowly. “Have you noticed any recent changes in her behavior? Mood swings, depressive or manic episodes, anything of the sort?”

“No, sir. Ailith seems to be the same as she’s always been.” Myers met Leonard’s eyes. “What is this about, sir?”

Leonard scratched his head and sighed, thinking quickly. “Standard procedure,” he lied. “Lieutenant Wood refused to answer these questions herself, so I was forced to find someone to answer for her. You’re listed as her health proxy in her records.”

Myers nodded and looked forward again.

Leonard could see that he was lying, even if Myers was hard to read. Knowing full well that he wouldn’t get any information out of the man, Leonard said, “Thank you Lieutenant. You’re free to go.”

The green-eyed man stood and nodded respectfully before leaving to continue his shift.

Leonard went to go retrieve Wood’s blood test results before leaving the lab quickly, his feet carrying him back to the medbay without any conscious thought.

Back in the medbay, Leonard glanced over the sample results. They showed a severe vitamin and iron deficiency, as he expected. Leonard set the papers down on his desk with a sigh and got back to work. He did have other patients to worry about.

…

Later, near the end of Leonard’s shift, his comm began to beep. The screen read “Jim Kirk” and Leonard accepted the call with a groan.

“How did it go with Myers?” Jim asked without hesitation.

“Not well,” Leonard grumbled. “The man seems to be a pathological liar. Oh, and he’s bipolar.”

“Woah there, last time I checked, you didn’t have a PHD in Psychology, Bones.”

“Well, I didn’t diagnose it. He started treatment for it a couple years back, then mysteriously stopped when he left his old assignment.” Leonard pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. “It was a dead end anyway. Apparently, he doesn’t care if she lives or dies.”

Jim sighed on the other end. “Or he’s keeping secrets for her. They might be in this together.” Leonard heard tapping coming through the comm. “Scotty just sent me a message; Wood didn’t show up for her shift today. She did have clearance to go back to work after the physical, right?”

Leonard frowned. “Yeah, she should have gone right to her shift after the exam. Or at least, after she turned tail and ran.” He chuckled dryly to himself, remembering going back through the forcefield earlier that day to find the biobed empty.

“Well, she didn’t.” Jim’s voice was serious and tense.

“Dammit,” Leonard muttered under his breath.

“Why don’t you go check her room and make sure she’s okay? Scotty’s pretty worried about her, it seems.”

 


	13. l’appel du vide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you know, this chapter may be EXTREMELY triggering. As in, suicide attempt. Yep.

**l’appel du vide (n.) the unexplainable desire to jump when on the edge of a cliff**

“I think it’s time, Lith.”

I stared at the razor, the light glinting off the side of it. I nodded wordlessly, not looking up at Charlie.

He had returned shortly after I woke from my nightmare. We’d held each other tight and then retreated into the bathroom together. He had rubbed my back as I’d made one shallow cut, just enough to help me slow my breathing. He had told me about McCoy coming to see him. I had told him about my dream. He had reassured me that we’d be safe now.

He squeezed my hand as he held it, running his thumb across my knuckles. “I’m done waiting,” he growled softly, a million emotions mixed into those three words.

Anger. He was burning with it, the fire too bright to be put out now.

Sadness. He was ready to leave a life so full of loss. I couldn’t blame him; it was a miracle he’d even made it this far.

Pity. He was lost inside himself, and this was the only door that wasn’t locked.

Loneliness. He was still distant. Even with me, there were parts of him that screamed to be noticed.

Pain. He was practically made of it. It tore through him, like a tornado through a field. Relentless. Unforgiving. Constant.

“Me too,” I responded simply. My two words were void of emotion. I couldn’t feel. That’s how I knew.

It was time.

I stood slowly, Charlie’s hand still in mine. I set the razor blade down on the counter and picked up a pair of scissors. Charlie looked at me curiously, questioning.

“If I’m going to lose myself, I might as well go all the way,” I mumbled, before grabbing a chunk of my hair and snipping through it, as close to my head as possible.

At first, I went slowly... Why? To delay the inevitable? To see if I would change my mind? To see if Charlie would stop me?

No. I picked up the pace, watching as my long caramel brown locks fell into the sink. Charlie stood back, watching through the mirror, his eyes a torrent of emotions, threatening to sweep me away.

Each lock of hair was another memory. Another silent scream. Another goodbye.

With a clatter, the scissors fell from my hands to the floor. And then Charlie was by my side again, holding out the razor. “Together,” he murmured.

I nodded, silent confirmation that I remembered our promise to each other, and took the razor.

One.

My hand shook. I took a deep breath and gritted my teeth. Black-red dripped onto the white counter.

Two.

The dim lights made it hard to tell how deep I was going, but I could already feel myself slipping.

Three.

The razor fell beside the scissors, landing with a similar metallic clang. And then I was

falling

falling

fallingfallingfallingfalling

fallen.

Then a strange pressure on my right arm and I was

fallingfallingfallingfalling

again, but this time it was only in my head.

Then a whispered “goodbye”. But maybe that was only in my head too.


	14. aspectabund

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woohoo i'm not dead
> 
> also i'll post two more chapters today to make up for my complete lack of content in the past weeks

**aspectabund (adj.) letting or being able to let expressive emotion show easily through one’s face and eyes**

Leonard hung up with Jim and looked through the crew database on his PADD to find Wood’s room number. Once he had located it, he waited until the end of his shift but was unable to focus on the work in front of him. As soon as the clock hit 10, he grabbed his things and left the medbay on quick feet.

The hallways were busy because of the shift change, which meant that Leonard had to push his way through a few crowds of crew members talking. He ignored the stern and annoyed glares they gave him, instead focusing on getting to Wood’s room as quickly as possible. When he arrived, he hesitated for only a second before knocking on the door.

“Lieutenant Wood! It’s Dr. McCoy.” he called through the door. “I’m here to follow up from your appointment. You didn’t show up for your shift.”

Silence.

“If you don’t answer the door, I’ll have to use my medical override to get in.”

A few crew members passed by, casting Leonard strange glances. He paid them no heed. After a few more moments of nothing, he sighed audibly and punched in his override code.

The room was organized, spotless… and completely unoccupied. Leonard glanced around quickly and, upon seeing no sign of Wood, crossed to the bathroom. It, too, was empty. Confused, Leonard sat on the edge of the bed and tried to think.

There was only one place were Wood might be.

With Charlie Myers.

Leonard pulled out his PADD and looked up Myers in the database to find his room number. He located it quickly and found, much to his dismay, that it was nearly halfway across the ship and three decks up.

He left Wood’s room and began to take the quickest route possible to Myers’s. The halls were still crawling with cadets and officers alike, slowing down Leonard much more than he would have liked. A steady sense of dread was growing in his mind, though he was not quite sure why. He picked up his pace, first to a slow jog and then up to nearly a sprint. He shouted as he ran, “Out of the way! Medical officer coming through!” People stuck to the walls, making a clear path for Leonard as he raced through the halls with rising intensity.

The ride on the lift was hell. All Leonard could do was wait as the chamber shot upward, and even the three floors felt like a hundred. He dared not let his mind wander to what might await him in Myers’s room. Once the doors opened again, Leonard picked up his sprint and continued to yell for people to move.

After what seemed like hours, Leonard finally found himself standing outside his destination. He banged on the door with his fist. “Open up! It’s Dr. McCoy!” he shouted out, pushing down his feelings of panic. When no answer came, he punched in his medical override code and burst into the room. It was dark, but he called the lights up to 100 percent.

The bed was messed, the sheets half lying on the floor, but there was no one there. Leonard’s eyes drifted to the bathroom door, which was closed. He could see the lights dimmed inside and felt his heart in his throat. He walked to the door slowly, his feet like lead. The handle turned easily and the door opened with a small creak. For a moment, Leonard wondered why the doors on a new starship would creak, but the thought dissipated when he saw her.

Wood – no, Ailith. Lying on the floor. Eyes closed. Hair cropped close to her head sloppily. Surrounded in blood.

Leonard fell to his knees quickly, his instincts kicking in. He pressed two fingers to the side of her neck. He sent up a silent prayer before feeling a slow beat – faint, but there. Pulling out his comm, he scanned her with his eyes as he called the medbay. “I need a crash cart to room 732, stat!” he shouted into the comm, trying to hide the pain in his voice as his gaze found her right arm, completely covered in crimson. The blood was pumping from a multitude of cuts steadily.

Leonard threw his comm down on the tile floor and started looking for something, anything, to slow the bleeding. There was a small roll of gauze on the counter, but not nearly enough to cover all of the cuts. With no other options, Leonard found himself taking off his uniform shirt, leaving him in just a thin white tee. He wrapped the material tightly around Ailith’s arm, trying his hardest to not let his emotions get the better of him. His focus needed to be completely on Ailith now.

It seemed like hours passed before a team of nurses showed up with a cart of supplies and a stretcher. “She’s already lost a lot of blood,” Leonard shouted to the nurses as they began to scan Ailith’s body with tricorders. “We need to get her to the medbay now!”

The nurses nodded and in sync, lifted Ailith’s frail body onto the stretcher. Leonard kept his hands pressed against the shirt on her arm. _Please,_ he silently prayed, _stay alive._


	15. oblivion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is full of highly inaccurate medical bullshit :)

**oblivion (n.) the state of being unaware of what is happening around you**

The medbay erupted into organized chaos as soon as Leonard and the crew arrived. Leonard told one of the nurses to keep pressure on Ailith’s arm as he went to gather supplies.

“Dr. McCoy,” a voice came from behind him as he rummaged through a cabinet. “She’ll need a blood transfusion.”

Leonard nodded, not bothering to look at the nurse. “Then start it,” he said quickly.

“There’s a problem, sir.”

Leonard turned to face the shorter woman. “What?” he growled. He pushed down his fear and replaced it with sternness.

“We don’t have any blood of her type,” the nurse’s voice shook. “We used it all after the Klingon attack last month.”

Leonard walked brusquely back to Ailith, who had been moved to a biobed, speaking as he went, “What type is she?”

“B negative, sir.”

Leonard took a deep breath as he looked down at Ailith. Her skin was pale, her body completely still. His mind raced. B negative. That’s… familiar. “Take mine,” he said suddenly. “I’m B negative. Take my blood.”

The nurse looked shocked. “But, Dr. McCoy, Dr. M’Benga is busy with other patients, and if we use your blood, you’ll have to-”

“We have no other choice!” Leonard snapped, looking up at Ailith’s vitals. “Shit,” he growled as he saw her oxygen levels drop dramatically.

“Sir, her organs are failing. She’s not receiving enough blood flow to her brain. We have to intubate.”

Leonard nodded, picking up the intubation equipment. He pointed to the first nurse and spoke, “Get a direct line set up, her arm to mine. We don’t have enough time to find someone else.” He gestured to another nurse, “You, start to stitch up those cuts on her arm. We need to stop the bleeding.”

The nurse nodded and began to work. Leonard took a deep breath and steeled himself. The first nurse returned just as Leonard opened Ailith’s mouth to put the tracheal tube in. “Dr. McCoy, I’m going to need you to stop moving your arm.”

“I can’t exactly do that,” Leonard growled as he put in the laryngoscope and pushed the tube down.

The nurse groaned and prepped the line. Leonard finished intubating Ailith just as the nurse began to insert the needle into Leonard’s arm, reaching awkwardly around him. Her hands shook, but somehow, she managed to insert the line into a vein. She stepped back again as Leonard’s blood began to flow to Ailith.

“Have you stitched up those cuts yet, nurse?” Leonard called as he attached an Ambu bag to the end of the tracheal tube.

“Not yet, sir,” the nurse said, his voice shaking.

Leonard nodded and began to squeeze the bag in his hand steadily. “Someone, help him out with the stitching,” he said, and immediately, another nurse began to thread a needle to assist. Leonard looked back up at Ailith’s vitals. Her oxygen levels were slowly rising, but Leonard knew she wasn’t out of the woods yet. He glanced at the line running from his vein to Ailith’s, now filled with dark red fluid. He knew he probably shouldn’t be moving so much with the danger of ripping out the line, but he had no other choice.

“Dr. McCoy,” a familiar voice came from behind him as a hand landed on his shoulder.

Leonard turned slightly, his hand still squeezing the Ambu bag, to see M’Benga there.

“I’ll take care of this,” M’Benga said, taking the bag from Leonard without changing the pace of the stimulated breaths. He took note of the direct line between Leonard and Ailith. “Go sit on one of the biobeds nearby so we can keep that line running.”

Leonard thought about protesting, but knew the other doctor was right. If he wanted to help Ailith at all, the best way to do it was relax and let the blood flow. He took one more glance at the monitors above Ailith’s form before settling down on a biobed one of the nurses had pushed over. He made sure to sit in a way where he could still see the monitors without being in anyone’s way.

The two nurses made quick work of the cuts on Ailith’s arm, stitching them neatly before wiping away the excess of blood covering her skin. Leonard could see now that there were nine lines, spaced between the wrist and crook of the elbow. He wondered quickly how she had managed to stay conscious to cut each one, but the thought faded as the monitors began to scream in alarm.

The team jumped into action, scanning with tricorders to try and find the problem. Leonard could do nothing but watch helplessly as the line showing Ailith’s unsteady and slow heartbeat flattened completely. A nurse came over to Leonard and quickly pulled the IV out of his arm. “What are you doing?” he exclaimed, holding his hand over the now-bleeding puncture wound.

“We have to get her heart beating again, and we don’t want to electrocute you, Doctor.” The nurse rushed before turning his back on Leonard.

Within seconds, M’Benga had cut off Ailith’s shirt and charged the defibrillator paddles. “Clear!” He shouted before placing the paddles on her chest. Ailith’s body jolted on the bed before going still again. There was a tense silence that felt like an eternity, then a small beep. Leonard looked up to see a small hill on the monitor where once there had only been a straight line. He let out a breath he hadn’t even known he was holding.

The nurse returned and inserted the line back into Leonard’s arm. Leonard watched as the team replaced the Ambu bag with a tube that led to a ventilator. M’Benga cut off the rest of Ailith’s shirt and covered her torso with a sheet, but not before Leonard noticed how visible her ribs were. God, the girl was killing herself in more ways than one.

M’Benga walked over to Leonard, snapping him out of his thoughts. “She’s stable for now, but her heart seems to be beating pretty erratically.”

“She has arrhythmia,” Leonard explained. “I did her physical this morning.”

M’Benga nodded. “We’ll have to keep a close eye on her vitals in that case. And we’re trying to find another donor for the blood right now. Can’t have her taking all of yours.” M’Benga glanced down at the line before looking up at Leonard again. He asked softly, “Did you find her?”

Leonard nodded but didn’t say anything. He kept his eyes glued on Ailith’s frail form.

M’Benga noticed Leonard’s uncomfortableness with the question and changed the subject. “I’m going to move her to a private room to recover. Is there anything else you want us to do?”

Leonard finally met the other doctor’s eyes. He thought for a moment. “Put in a feeding tube and a catheter. She has an extreme vitamin and iron deficiency. And…” he hesitated. “Keep her under until I say so. I’ve got to get this whole… situation under control before she wakes up. And I should talk to Jim,” he muttered the last part mostly to himself.

“Excuse me, Dr. M’Benga, Dr. McCoy,” a male nurse had come up to the pair of doctors. “My blood type is B negative as well. I could donate, if needed.”

Dr. M’Benga smiled at the nurse graciously. “Of course, thank you. Leonard, we’ll get that line out and then you should probably go clean up.”

Leonard looked down at himself and only now noticed that his once white undershirt was now covered in splotches of crimson. His hands were worse, dried blood caught under his fingernails and all over his palms.

Ailith’s blood.


	16. verklempt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is full of wholesome McKirk content and also Jim just being a really good friend

**verklempt (adj.) completely overcome with emotion**

Leonard was standing by the sink when his comm let out a small beep. He had been staring at his blood-stained hands for minutes now but couldn’t bring himself to wash them. He shook out of his stupor and pulled out his comm. It was Jim.

“Hey, Jim,” Leonard said, surprised by the tiredness in his own voice.

“Did you find her?”

“Yeah.”

Jim let out a sigh of relief over the comm. “Good, Scotty’s been messaging me nonstop. He wants her down there in the morning to-”

“She can’t, Jim,” Leonard cut him off. “She’s barely alive.”

There was a moment of heavy silence. Then Jim’s voice again, “Give me five minutes. I’ll be right down.” Then the connection ended and Leonard was left alone with his thoughts again.

Finally, he turned on the tap. He hesitated for only a moment, then ran his hands under the water, watching the blood go down the drain in a swirl of murky red. Even when they were scrubbed clean, Leonard couldn’t help the feeling that her blood was still on his hands.

He turned off the water and leaned against the counter wearily. Then there was a heavy hand on his shoulder. He looked to see M’Benga smiling sympathetically, holding out a clean medical tunic. Leonard took it without a word but nodded his thanks to the other doctor.

He went to his office to change but found that when the time came to take off his undershirt, his hands shook fiercely. His breaths grew ragged as he sat down at his desk, head in his hands.

Maybe he could have stopped her. Maybe, if he hadn’t taken the blood samples down to the lab and instead stayed and talked to her, he could have helped. If he had pushed harder, earlier, to get her in for a physical, maybe he could have prevented all of it. Maybe he could have saved her.

Hot tears rolled down Leonard’s cheeks. He didn’t even bother wiping them away, knowing fully that they’d soon be replaced by more.

“Jesus, Bones,” Jim’s breathy voice came from the doorway.

Leonard snapped his head up to see the captain standing there with a look of shock. He followed Jim’s gaze to his shirt, remembering that he still hadn’t changed it.

Then Jim’s expression changed to concern as he strode over to Leonard’s desk and picked up the clean uniform. “Come on, Bones, let’s get you changed.” He grabbed Leonard’s elbow to help him stand. For a minute, Leonard thought about resisting, but he was so drained that even his limbs protested. He stood shakily, his hands like frail leaves in a windstorm.

Jim helped him lift his bloodied shirt over his head, a hand on him at all times to keep him steady. A small part of Leonard felt silly for being so helpless and childlike, but the rest of him was just glad that his best friend was here.

“Give me a second, okay?” Jim said softly as he sat Leonard back down in his chair. “I’m going to go find something to clean off the rest.”

Leonard nodded, looking down at his bare chest. The blood had soaked through the shirt, leaving his skin smeared. For a second, Leonard’s breath hitched, but then Jim returned with a damp cloth. Jim put a hand under Leonard’s chin and forced him to meet his gaze. “Hey,” Jim urged, “eyes on me. Don’t look, okay?”

Leonard nodded again. Jim began to wipe the cloth over his chest, cleaning off the excess blood. When he’d finished, he folded the material into itself to hide the stain and set it on Leonard’s desk. Leonard could feel himself getting drowsy and wondered if it was from sleep deprivation or the blood transfusion. Before he could nod off though, Jim was helping him stand again to put a clean shirt on. This time, Leonard leaned more heavily on the captain, his eyes drooping.

When Leonard was finally clean and changed, Jim led him over to the cot that Leonard kept in his office. He spoke as he helped Leonard down, “I’ll keep an eye on the lieutenant for now. You get some rest, and I’ll wake you if anything happens.”

Leonard wanted to protest but could barely find the strength. He quickly drifted off into a deep slumber.


	17. sycophant

**sycophant (n.) a self-seeking, servile flatterer; fawning parasite**

The sound of clattering and shouting woke Leonard from his sleep. He sat up with a jolt as he heard a loud crash, all his drowsiness fading. How long had he slept?

“I need to see her!” a muffled, yet familiar, voice shouted from outside the office. “Let me see her!”

Leonard bolted out of the bed and into the medbay, where he saw none other than Charlie Myers being held by the arms by two security members. “What is going on here?” Leonard demanded, walking swiftly to the struggling man.

“He wishes to see Lieutenant Wood, sir,” one of the security members said, keeping his firm grip on Myers.

Leonard found anger boiling up inside him, threatening to spill over. “Let go of him,” he growled.

The security officers looked at each in hesitation before loosening their grip, but not backing away. Myers cast them furious glances before turning back to Leonard. “Dr. McCoy, please, I need to-”

He had barely gotten the words in before Leonard rushed at him, forcing him back against the wall. Leonard pushed his forearm against the other man’s throat, nearly cutting off his air supply. “You don’t _need_ anything,” he growled, low and full of anger.

“Bones,” Leonard heard Jim’s voice behind him, warning.

 “She’s what matters right now,” Leonard ignored Jim, pointing with his free hand to the private room where Ailith was, “not you and your selfish attitude.”

“Bones!” Jim’s voice was hard now.

Leonard, once again, ignored him. “I do not want to see you in here again.” Leonard pushed his arm further against Myers’s throat. The other man gasped for air, clawing at Leonard’s hand.

“Dr. McCoy, that is enough!” Jim commanded and finally, Leonard freed Myers. The lieutenant held his throat and spluttered out a cough.

“Get out of my medbay,” Leonard spat in Myers’s face. He spun to face Jim and instead found the entirety of the medical staff staring at him in shock. It was quiet enough to hear a pin drop, if it were not for Leonard’s labored breaths.

Leonard didn’t move. His heart was racing and his mind was telling him to say something, anything. But he couldn’t. He let his head fall and closed his eyes, attempting to control his breathing.

Jim’s voice was soft next to his ear when Leonard heard him. “It’s alright, Bones. Let’s go back to your office, okay?”

Leonard shook his head and gritted his teeth. “No. I… let’s go to Ailith’s room.”

“Bones-”

“Please, Jim.” Leonard looked into his friend’s eyes.

Jim sighed and patted Leonard’s shoulder. He looked back up at the medbay, where most of the crew was still watching the interaction. “Alright, folks, back to work. There are patients to attend to.”

The crew didn’t hesitate to turn away and begin working again as Jim led Leonard to Ailith’s room, hand still on his shoulder. “Thanks, Jim,” Leonard rasped, his breaths still a bit labored. The pair went into Ailith’s private room without another word.

Leonard still felt a lump in his throat when he saw her. So pale and weak, tubes sprouting from her mouth, her arms, everywhere. She’d been clothed in one of the shapeless white gowns of the medbay. The blood had been cleaned up, diminishing the contrast between the color of her skin and the sheets. She looked like a ghost.

Dr. M’Benga was adjusting one of the IVs when Jim and Leonard entered. He looked up when he heard the door, flashing a quick smile to Leonard. “We finally got some more donors,” he said, “so we don’t have to keep a direct line.”

Leonard nodded blankly, barely registering the words as he stared at Ailith’s arm, now wrapped in gauze.

“I’ll be outside if you need anything,” M’Benga said, patting Leonard on the shoulder as he left.

Jim went to Ailith’s bedside and looked down at her. “I can’t believe that just yesterday, she was in the bridge fixing the computer,” he mused. His eyes betrayed an expression of confusion and pity.

Leonard couldn’t find the strength to respond, so he merely walked in a daze over to Jim. He sat down heavily in a nearby chair, keeping his eyes glued to Ailith’s arm.

Jim cast a worried glance at his friend. The captain could simply not understand why Leonard seemed so conflicted about this particular crew member, but he figured now was not the time to ask. Instead, he sat down next to Leonard to offer what little comfort he could. “We’ll have to figure out what happened to cause this. It must have been triggered by something. I can start asking around.” Jim paused. “Only if you want me to, though.”

Leonard blinked in confusion. Jim never asked for permission.

When he received no answer, Jim spoke again. “I left Chekov at the conn; the kid’s probably broken at least four things already.” Jim chuckled lightly, but the lame attempt at humor seemed to have no effect on Leonard.

For a few moments, Leonard could only stare at the figure lying motionless before him. Before he allowed his mind to wander, he checked to make sure M’Benga had followed his orders from before. There was an IV hooked up to a continuous drip of propofol to keep her under, another to supply blood that she had lost, and a nasal feeding tube. All seemed to be in order, Leonard assured himself.

He looked up at the monitors above the bed to see the readings. Her heartbeat was still unsteady, but that was to be expected. Brain activity was textbook for a coma. Leonard took this as a sign that after she was taken off the propofol, she’d wake quickly.

“I have no idea what any of those mean,” Jim said suddenly, gesturing to the monitors. He hoped that the statement would start Leonard on a tangent to keep his mind off Ailith.

It worked and Leonard immediately rattled off the meaning of each number and picture, adding in a sassy, “Of course you wouldn’t know, you’re not a doctor.” But when he had nothing left to explain, Leonard drifted back to tense silence.

Jim sighed. “I suppose we should talk about what we’re going to do when she wakes up. There’s no protocol for this.”

Leonard nodded and responded quietly, “I’ll make sure to be there when we take her off the propofol. She’ll probably be overwhelmed, especially by the tube, so I’ll have to keep her calm.” Leonard paused. “You probably shouldn’t be here. That would just stress her out and probably send her into cardiac arrest.”

Jim smiled but Leonard was completely serious. Jim coughed awkwardly.

“Anyway,” Leonard began again, rolling his eyes, “we can’t have her hurting herself again. That’s what we’ll have to watch out for.”

Jim furrowed his eyebrows. “She could easily find a hypo or something and jab herself with it. How would we prevent that?”

Leonard pressed a button on the side of the biobed and a plastic cuff sprang out of the side, wrapping around Ailith’s upper arm. “I think one restraint is enough. There are ankle and wrist cuffs as well, but I don’t want her to feel trapped.” He pressed the button again and the cuff retracted back into the bed.

“When do you plan on waking her up?”

Leonard shrugged tiredly. His lack of sleep was catching up to him and the nap earlier had barely made a dent in it. All this talk of waking made him want to be in a coma himself. But he had to take care of Ailith. He couldn’t leave her.

“Bones?” Jim’s voice cut through Leonard’s thoughts. “Do you have any idea when you’re going to wake her up?”

“Oh,” Leonard rubbed his forehead and furrowed his eyebrows. “Um, yes. No. Well, kind of.” He sighed in exasperation. “Soon, I guess. After her body has recovered from the shock of the blood loss.” He checked his watch. 12:42 am. “Sometime this afternoon.”

Jim nodded and stood, wiping imaginary dust off his pants. “Call me when she wakes. I want to talk to her and see if we can figure out how this happened. I’ll talk to the ship’s psychologist and set up an appointment for her as well. I guess we have cause to do so now.” He stopped to think for a moment. “I’ll talk to security to make sure Lieutenant Myers doesn’t get in again.”

Leonard flashed him a quick, tired smile of gratitude. “Thanks, Jim,” he murmured before looking back to Ailith. The sound of footsteps followed by the opening and closing of the door informed Leonard that his friend had left. Now it was just Leonard, alone with his thoughts and a dying girl. And he wasn’t going to leave her now.


	18. nebulochaotic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let's all just ignore the fact that i haven't updated in literally months kay?
> 
>  
> 
> but that cliffhanger tho... not really

**nebulochaotic (adj.) a state of being hazy and confused**

Bright lights pierced through the veil of darkness. My eyelids trembled from disuse as I attempted to pry them open. Irregular beeping filled the air. There was something in my throat, rough and irritating. It felt invasive and wrong, all wrong.

I managed to part my eyelids the slightest bit before being assaulted by the light. I fluttered them shut again as unwelcome tears sprang to my eyes.

I relied on my other senses to orientate myself. By now I’d figured that I was either in the medbay or the bridge, as those were the places with the brightest lights. The bridge was quickly eliminated as I questioned why I’d be asleep there. So medbay it was.

The irregular beeping: probably a heart rate monitor. But I thought those were supposed to be constant? You know, “beep beep beep,” whatever. This one was more of a “ba beep ba bum beep ba bum ba.” It was the same pattern as the one at my physical earlier.

The air was thick with the scent of sterility. Alcohol stung my nostrils, along with the sickly-sweet smell of cough medicine.

Speaking of nostrils… there was something _in_ mine. Like, going _through_ it, and then taped to my cheek. _What the hell?_

It felt like there were at least two tubes stuck in my arms, and another in my throat. I could sense that it was somehow taped to my face, like the other thing on my cheek. I tried to raise my right arm to feel it, but something held my arm to the bed. I heard the heart rate monitor increase unsteadily.

A series of whispers floated to my ears, but I couldn’t make out any words. The whispers stopped abruptly and were followed by a door closing and the soft padding of feet on tile.

Then a hand was resting on my right arm, the one I couldn’t lift. “Hey, Ailith,” a male voice murmured. It was gentle and quiet and slightly familiar, with a hint of a southern accent. “Can you open your eyes for me?”

I attempted to do as the voice asked, this time forcing my eyes to stay open against the bright lights. I blinked a few times to clear my cloudy vision to see a man in a grey medical tunic standing over me, brows furrowed.

“There we go.” A hint of a smile crept to his lips but his eyes were still laced with concern. I recognized him now as the CMO, Dr. McCoy. He looked exhausted, his eyes rimmed with red and shadowed by dark circles.

I attempted to sit up, but the thing on my arm prevented me from doing so, along with the doctor’s gentle pushing on my shoulder.

“Don’t move,” he said. “We’ve got some things to check out first.”

I nodded slightly and attempted to clear my throat, only to find the tube completely blocking my airway. I gagged a bit, feeling uncomfortable and invaded.

Dr. McCoy shushed me a bit, his hand still on my shoulder. “Don’t fight the tube, darlin’.”

As much as I wanted to follow his orders, I was still not happy with the thing. I gagged a bit more and choked heavily as McCoy pulled a stool over to what I now presumed to be the biobed. “I know it’s a bit uncomfortable now,” his eyes flashed with pity as he spoke, “but I can’t take it out until I know you can breathe on your own. Just try and let it do the work.”

His words made sense, and as much as I hated the tube, I knew he was probably right. I settled back down and attempted to let the machine breathe for me.

McCoy examined one of the IVs attached to my arm as I scanned the medbay. I was surprised to find that I was actually in a private room, with no other patients or nurses. It was small and furnished with only two biobeds (one of which I occupied), a small cabinet, and a desk. Various medical equipment surrounded my bed.

McCoy had moved from the IV to the tube attached to my cheek. His hands probed the tube gently, his eyes completely focused.

I tried to bring my left hand up to feel the tube, but he grabbed my wrist before I could touch it. I flinched at his touch and heard the heart rate monitor accelerate again.

“Don’t touch anything,” he instructed firmly, but released my hand when he noticed my reaction. “That’s a feeding tube.”

I dropped my hand to my side again. My mind buzzed with unanswered questions a million miles a minute, but the tube in my throat prevented me from voicing any of them.

_Why am I here?_

_Why do I need a feeding tube?_

_Why can’t I move my right arm?_

_What’s up with the weird heart monitor?_

Each question built on itself, leaving me completely lost in a maze of confusion. I blinked a few times to draw myself out of my own mind.

McCoy sat back down on the stool and took a PADD from the nearby desk. He tapped the screen a few times and let out a long breath. I let my eyes wander to my body, which was clothed in a shapeless medical gown. I looked at McCoy cautiously then let my gaze go to my right arm, finally letting my curiosity get the better of me.

A cuff had been attached to my upper arm, effectively tying me to the bed. But it was the pristine white bandages extending from my palm to my elbow that set me off.


	19. etiolate

**etiolate (v.) to cause to become weakened or sickly; drain of color or vigor**

The night came rushing back to me in flashes.

_Locks of caramel brown hair falling to the sink._

_Falling._

_Charlie._

_Crimson dripping down my arm, staining the white counter._

_Charlie._

_Falling._

_Falling._

_Falling._

A soothing voice. No. That didn’t happen. That was _happening_. Now.

“Don’t fight it, Ailith.” _Happening_.

“I’m tired of waiting.” _Happened_.

A loud beeping. _Happening_.

Blood. Blood. Blood. _Happened_.

“You need to calm down, Ailith.” _Happening_.

There were black spots creeping into my vision now. “Please focus, Ailith.” The voice was completely calm. I felt safe as the words came to my ears, and the night hurried away as quickly as it had come.

_Why wasn’t I dead?_

I realized I’d been choking on the breathing tube again. I tried to relax my throat again, feeling lightheaded.

Then my muscles felt warm and tingly and I wasn’t struggling against the tube anymore. The black spots faded away, leaving only a pair of concerned hazel eyes.

“Better?” McCoy’s voice was soft as he set down a now-empty syringe. He pressed a button on the heart monitor, which was letting out a high-pitched whine of alarm. The sound stopped and the irregular beating picked up again.

I nodded slightly.

_Why wasn’t I dead?_

McCoy cleared his throat before leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. “The captain would like to talk to you about what happened, once we get the tube out, of course. We don’t have to rush; whenever you’re ready to talk is fine.”

I didn’t want to talk about it at all, and especially not with the captain.

_Why wasn’t I dead?_

McCoy grabbed a tricorder off the nearby desk and started to scan my chest. “Okay, Ailith,” he began, “I’m going to ask you some questions and you just nod or shake your head a bit. Not too much, or you might displace one of the tubes. Ready?”

I nodded.

“Any tightness in your chest?”

Nod.

“A lot?”

Shake.

“Just a little?”

Nod.

“Any pain in your lungs?”

Shake.

“Tingling in your finger or toes?”

Shake.

“Are you in any pain anywhere else?”

Shake.

McCoy set the tricorder back down a flashed me a quick smile. “I’m going to wait another hour to see if we can get that tightness taken care of. For now, you’ll just have to put up with me until we get that tube out.” He chuckled a bit as he sat on the stool again.

In my head, I groaned. Honestly, I just wanted to sleep. Whatever he’d put into my IV to calm me down had also made me extremely drowsy. Plus, my opinion of the CMO still remained: he was annoying and grumpy. But… he was being uncharacteristically nice to me. Probably because I couldn’t do anything about it.

…

An hour of talking and groaning (inside my head) later, McCoy scanned me with the tricorder again. He nodded silently, a look of approval on his face, and tapped a few things into his nearby PADD. “Alright, darlin’, looks like we can take that tube out now.”

I did a little happy dance inside. Now that he didn’t have to make sure I wasn’t going to choke on the thing, he could leave me alone.

McCoy told me what would happen as he took the tube out. Honestly, the whole situation sounded terrifying, but I’d just be glad to be able to talk again.

After a plethora of coughing and gagging and strange medical vernacular, the tube was out. My throat felt raw and dry, but at least I could breathe without obstruction now. McCoy offered me a cup of water, which I graciously accepted, and put a mask over my face to ensure I was getting enough oxygen.

When he’d finished, I immediately asked the first question that came to mind. “What happened?” My voice was harsh and gravelly but muffled through the mask. “I remember… I remember cutting, but then nothing.”

“We don’t have to talk about it now-”

“ _What happened?_ ” I demanded as best I could with my still-dry throat.

McCoy let out a long breath in an audible _whoosh_. “You didn’t show up for your shift yesterday. Scotty was getting concerned so the captain told me to try and find you. You were unconscious from major blood loss, and severely malnourished and dehydrated. We stitched up the cuts but your body was already damaged. We had to intubate and put you on the ventilator. It was safer to keep you sedated after that to ensure your body recovered from shock.”

I took in his words silently, but my mind was racing. I had so many questions, I just didn’t know which to ask first.

“We had to put in a feeding tube and a catheter, and those IVs are giving you blood and nutrients.” He gestured to my arms then paused for a moment, his eyes glinting with an emotion I couldn’t place. “The feeding tube will have to stay in for a while,” he said slowly, as if measuring his words. “I know it will be uncomfortable, but there’s no other way we can get the nutrients to you quickly and effectively.” Another pause. “I know you don’t eat, either.”

I stifled a groan and didn’t respond, avoiding his eyes. Well, that’s just lovely.

“Listen, Ailith, I need you to understand,” McCoy began again. “The way you’ve been treating yourself… it’s not good for you. And not just the cutting, everything.”

Finally, I spoke up. “I know,” I said simply.

“No, Ailith, I don’t think you do.” McCoy’s voice was hard but still carried a trace of concern. “Your heart is weak. You have arrhythmia, caused by your improper eating. We have rations on the ship for a reason. I tried telling you that at your physical, but you left before I got the chance.”

I didn’t dare meet his eyes, feeling my cheeks burning. That explained the irregular beeping of the heart rate monitor.

McCoy paused, then continued slowly, “You have a meeting with the ship’s psychologist scheduled for tomorrow.”

The words sent a chill to my heart but I still didn’t look up at him. I didn’t want to talk about this yet. Maybe not ever. I didn’t want to explain my actions. I didn’t want my mind to be picked apart like carrion by vultures.

“I’ll be there with you,” McCoy said, “just in case. We still have to look after your heart. Plus, someone needs to be there to…” his words drifted off.

“To what?” I spat out, sounding angrier than I had intended.

“To make sure you don’t try anything rash.” McCoy seemed unfazed by my tone of voice. “That’s why you’re cuffed to the bed, and why I’m staying here in the first place.”

I looked down at the cuff on my arm, trying to absorb his words. Of course, they’d need someone to watch me. But the CMO of the ship? Seemed a bit overkill if you ask me.

I finally looked back at McCoy, who was sitting on the stool almost expectantly. When I didn’t say anything, he sighed in what seemed to be… disappointment? resignation? Whatever. The man was just trying to make me feel bad, and frankly I didn’t care.

He was opening his mouth to speak again when the door to the room opened. Through the small opening, I could see the rest of the medbay, bustling with activity. Standing in the doorway was a very familiar, tall, dark-haired man.


	20. kalopsia

****

**kalopsia (n.) the delusion of things being more beautiful than they are**

Confused, I tried to sit up again, only to remember the cuff around my arm. “Charlie?” I murmured.

“Ailith!” Charlie shouted as the nurses grabbed his arms and attempted to wrestle him back outside.

Dr. McCoy stood quickly, nearly knocking over the stool he had occupied. “Get him out of here,” he growled, his voice low and menacing.

The nurses had managed to pull Charlie back a few feet before he broke free. He ran to my side, his feet sliding on the floor. I expected his face to be filled with concern and pity, but it held only anger and hatred. Behind him, the nurses and McCoy were struggling to hold him back. “You promised,” he shouted at me, reaching for my bandaged wrist.

_“Promise me you’ll end this when you get the chance.” Butterfly kisses on my cheeks._

_“Charlie, I can’t…”_

_“We’ll do it together. I’ll be there with you, and afterward, I’ll be there, too. You just need to promise me.” Hot breath on my neck._

_“Okay, Charlie. I promise.”_

I let out a cry as he gripped my arm tighter, writhing on the bed. Tears leaked out of the corners of my eyes and white-hot pain flashed through me, sending my head spinning. “Stop!” I choked out as he continued to constrict my arm.

Finally, the nurses, with the help of Dr. McCoy, managed to drag him away from me. His fingers released their grip suddenly, leaving my arm throbbing.

As they hauled Charlie’s struggling form away, he bellowed profanities at me. “You bitch! You promised to end this!” His voice cracked in anger before McCoy finally closed the door after him and the two nurses.

I heard his muffled shouts from outside, but the pain in my arm drew me back to myself. “Dr. McCoy,” I managed to gasp between sobs. The mask on my face wasn’t doing much to help me breathe steadily.

_Why wasn’t he dead?_

McCoy rushed over to the cabinet and pulled out a small syringe. He plunged the syringe into my IV and I instantly felt calmer as McCoy began to unwrap the bandages on my arm. They were beginning to turn red with fresh blood. I managed to calm my breathing on my own as he worked.

_Why wasn’t he dead?_

Before McCoy took off the final layer, he flashed me a look of pity. “You can look away, Ailith.”

I shook my head, trying to ignore the throbbing pain. “I can handle it.”

_Why wasn’t he dead?_

McCoy cocked his head, expression unreadable, then proceeded to unwrap the rest of the bandages, starting at the base of my hand. I could see little crescent moon indents where Charlie’s nails had been. And then…

One.

Two.

Three.

Three bleeding lines. Tiny blue stitches crisscrossed each one, like railroad tracks. Those were mine. I had done that. But…

Four.

Five.

Six.

Those weren’t mine. I hadn’t done that. _What?_

Seven.

Eight.

Nine.

Not mine. My arm, my blood, but not my cuts.

I choked out a sob and McCoy stopped working to look up at me. “Hey now,” he murmured, his southern accent creeping into his voice. “It’s alright. I’m here.”

I struggled to gain control of my breathing again. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the nine jagged lines racing up my arms. “I didn’t do that,” I gasped as hot tears ran down my cheeks.

McCoy furrowed his eyebrows and frowned. “What do you mean?”

I pointed to the first three. “Those are mine,” I moved down my arm to the other six, “those are not mine.”

McCoy put the gauze down, still frowning. “You mean… you didn’t cut yourself here?” He waved his hand toward the cuts.

I shook my head.

McCoy seemed confused at first, then his face turned hard as he began to wrap my arm again. He seemed to burn with anger, as much as he tried to suppress it.

“Dr. McCoy…” I started slowly, watching the lines disappear.

Nine.

Eight.

Seven.

“When you found me…”

Six.

Five.

Four.

“Was Charlie there, too?”

Three.

Two.

One.

McCoy’s eyes flickered as he taped the end of the gauze. He didn’t respond for a while. “No,” he said finally. “You were alone.” He leaned back on the stool, nearly tipping it over.

I looked away from him, staring at the ceiling. Why wasn’t he there with me? He promised. He must have had his reasons. “He loves me.”

McCoy raised an eyebrow.

Oops. I didn’t think I’d said that out loud.

“Hate to say it, but that didn’t seem like love when he came in here screaming.” McCoy stood and picked up his PADD, tapping it a few times as he glanced up at the monitor.

I hid my embarrassment and replied quickly, “He does that a lot, actually. It’s okay though.” A small smile graced my lips as I counted the ceiling tiles. “He’s all the broken pieces of my heart,” I whispered.

“Better leave some room in that heart for yourself, darling,” was McCoy’s gentle reply. I hadn’t realized he’d heard me.

“It doesn’t matter. He loves me, and I love him.”

McCoy arched an eyebrow at me, putting down his PADD and sitting again. “Just because you love someone doesn’t mean you stop taking care of yourself.” McCoy took the mask off my face.

“I didn’t do this because of him,” I barked back at him, feeling my face get hot. I didn’t have to gesture to the scars riddling my arms for McCoy to get the message.

He leaned forward, his eyes searching. “Then why did you do it?”

I didn’t answer, looking away to avoid his penetrating gaze. After a few moments of tense silence, he got up and walked over to the desk. When I looked back over at him, he was typing on his PADD again.

The situation with Charlie and the following conversation had gotten me riled up more than I had wanted. I’d let my guard down, to the CMO of all people. The fact that McCoy actually seemed to care made it even worse. And it wasn’t just out of pity, like most people. He seemed to take personal offense at the fact that I had done this, but the question remained: why did he care?

As much as I wanted to know the answer, there was another thought tugging on my mind. Why had Charlie been so angry? I had done what I’d promised, or at least tried to. It wasn’t my fault that people got suspicious and came looking for me. And why wasn’t he gone? Charlie had promised that we’d go together. So why was he still here? He couldn’t have known that the med staff would come looking. He should have ended himself right after me. So, what stopped him?

And who had cut those other six lines?


	21. imbroglio

**imbroglio (n.) an altercation or complicated situation**

“Dr. McCoy to the bridge.”

Leonard let out a heavy sigh and glanced over at Ailith’s bed. She was sleeping peacefully; Leonard expected nothing less after the stresses of the day. He stood quietly, trying his best not to wake the sleeping girl, although he knew she’d probably be out for a few more hours.

Leonard made his way out of the room and asked M’Benga to keep watch over Ailith until he got back.

“Take your time,” the other doctor responded. “You’ve been in there for 12 hours now. Maybe get some sleep, eh?”

Leonard brushed the comment off and thanked M’Benga. He wouldn’t sleep until he knew Ailith was completely safe. Physically, mentally, emotionally. He wouldn’t rest until he could provide her those comforts.

As Leonard made his way to the bridge, he found himself wondering why he cared so much about Ailith. She certainly was beautiful, exquisite even, yet Leonard knew that wasn’t it. He didn’t necessarily see her in _that_ way – although he could imagine it happening in the future. Maybe it was because of the vulnerable look in her eyes; or how every smile seemed to hide a certain sadness; or the way she seemed so unapologetically herself, even under all the hurt.

The real question was, how did she ever manage to get stuck with a monster like Charlie Myers? Leonard knew that it wasn’t totally Myers’s fault; if he had just continued to receive treatment for his bipolar disorder, maybe things would have been different. But that would require a certain sense of responsibility and maturity, and from what little interaction Leonard had with the man, he saw neither of those characteristics.

The doors to the lift opened with the tell-tale swish of air and Leonard stepped onto the bridge, snapping himself out of his thoughts.

“Bones!” Jim called from the captain’s chair.

“Jim,” Leonard nodded to his friend as he stood beside him.

“How is she?”

Leonard sighed. Straight to business. “Stable, for now. Sleeping peacefully. You want to tell me how Myers managed to get into the medbay with security watching?”

Jim furrowed his eyebrows and turned to face the doctor. “ _What?_ ”

“Myers came in her room and nearly sent her into cardiac arrest,” Leonard began. “Started shouting about some promise and attacked her. Reopened some of the cuts on her arm.”

Jim frowned, then a look of realization came over his face. “Shift change,” he murmured. “He sneaked in while the officers were swapping positions. That’s my guess, anyway.”

Leonard nodded slowly, recalling the time of the encounter. It seemed logical that Myers would take advantage of the officers letting their guards down for a minute.

“I’ll assign more officers to the medbay and make sure they don’t all change shift at the same time. That should work out,” Jim continued. “In the meantime, why don’t we head down to Dr. Fletcher’s office to talk about tomorrow?”

Jim stood and began to walk toward the lift, Leonard in tow. Leonard had nearly forgotten about the meeting with the psychologist, after all that had happened.

Jim knocked politely on the door to the office when they arrived, flashing Leonard a small smile. The door opened seconds later to a tall, thin man in the standard Star Fleet science uniform.

“Afternoon, gentlemen,” the man, Dr. Fletcher, said with a southern drawl not too different from Leonard’s own. “I’ve been expecting you.” He stepped aside to let the two men enter the office.

It was a small, brightly light room with a desk on one side and a couch and chairs on the other. Dr. Fletcher gestured to the couch, saying, “Please, take a seat.” Leonard and Jim did so as Dr. Fletcher spoke again. “I’ve taken the liberty of looking up Lieutenant Wood’s file. I understand that you conducted her physical yesterday, Dr. McCoy?”

“Yes. She showed multiple scars, some faded and some new, which indicated self-harming behavior. This has obviously been going on a while; I’m just not sure why it took a near-death experience for anyone to notice it,” Leonard responded with a frown. “She’s also severely underweight.”

Dr. Fletcher nodded, tapping something into a PADD. “Yes, that much I can see from her file. Anything else you noticed?”

Leonard paused for a moment, then recalled something. “She had bruises. Recent ones, on her arms and jaw. Told me she tripped, but I’m not sure I believe her after what happened today.” Leonard noticed the other doctor’s puzzled look and explained, “Her boyfriend, Lieutenant Charlie Myers, came into her room, unauthorized, and attacked her. Makes me think that maybe it’s not the first time. She also told me herself that he’s been angry like that before.”

 “Charlie Myers…” Dr. Fletcher tapped his PADD again. “Ah, yes. Says here he was diagnosed with bipolar disorder years ago… And no follow-up after that. I may have words with the Lieutenant later.”

“That would be wise,” Leonard said.

Jim, who had been silent up until this point, finally spoke, “Dr. Fletcher, at the appointment tomorrow, would you mind if I sat in? I'll try not to interfere in any way; I would just like to understand the situation better so I can handle it effectively.”

Dr. Fletcher looked at the captain thoughtfully before nodding slightly. “Captain, Doctor, this is a very fragile situation involving a very fragile patient. It is most important that we remain calm and collected while she is in our presence, so as not to upset her. I suspect that the lieutenant will be unwilling to cooperate at first, but we must not push her. Please, allow me to act as my job requires so that I may work with as few distractions as possible.”

The two men on the couch nodded their understanding. Fletcher continued as he stood up, “Well, it seems we’re done for today. Tomorrow I’ll come down to the medbay to complete the evaluation. Have a nice day, gentlemen.”

Leonard and Kirk stood, shook hands with the doctor, and left. They stepped out into the hallway together and Leonard leaned against the wall with a heavy sigh.

“You good?” Jim asked his friend.

Leonard nodded and closed his eyes. “I’m not quite sure why this feels so… heavy. I mean, I thought I was prepared to handle something like this but… I don’t know.”

Jim clapped a hand on Leonard’s shoulder. “Hey, if you need a break, take it. I’m sure M’Benga will take care of the lieutenant just fine. Get some sleep, man.”

Leonard heard Jim’s footsteps growing steadily quieter and when he opened his eyes he was alone in the hall.


	22. metanoia

**metanoia (n.) the journey of changing one’s mind, heart, self, or way of life**

Dr. Fletcher was not what I expected. He was a tall yet frail looking man with round glasses perched on the top of his nose, blue uniform engulfing his thin frame. His hair was almost nonexistent, just a thin patch of cropped grey centered on his otherwise bald head. Every part of his face was sharp and harsh, thin nose and jutting cheekbones the prominent features. He seemed to perch on the edge of his chair like a crow on a wire, a watchful sentry, dull blue eyes searching.

I did not like looking at Dr. Fletcher.

Talking to him was okay.

“Hello, Lieutenant Wood,” he started. “May I call you Ailith?”

I shrugged noncommittally and fiddled with the IV in my arm, avoiding eye contact. Dr. McCoy had raised the back of the biobed so I could sit up, and Dr. Fletcher had insisted that the restraint on my bicep be removed, at least for the duration of our session. He’d briefly won my favor after the request.

The presence of the CMO and the captain just a few short feet away in the corner of the room did not go unnoticed. Dr. Fletcher told me when he first came in to pretend like it was just the two of us, but Kirk was just so… noticeable. And McCoy, I mean, how could I ignore the piercing hazel eyes he’d fixed on me the moment he walked into the room?

“So, Ailith,” Dr. Fletcher spoke again, “do you want to tell me how you got here?”

“I tried to kill myself,” I mumbled. “Thought that was pretty obvious.”

“Hey,” McCoy barked from the corner of the room, startling me. “Stop messing with that thing; you’re going to rip it out.”

I dropped my hand from the IV tube and curled my fist around the bedsheets instead. I supposed the Mr. Nice Guy act could only continue for so long.

Dr. Fletcher cleared his throat. “Okay… How about we talk about that bruise on your jaw?”

I flinched slightly and hoped no one noticed. I chose not to respond in any other way. My mouth felt dry but I didn’t reach for the cup of water on the table beside the bed, knowing my every move was being scrutinized.

“Did Charlie do that to you?” Dr. Fletcher’s voice was nothing like his appearance. It was soft and gentle and soothing and not at all fitting with the question he asked.

I hesitated for a moment, then nodded. The sooner I answered his questions, the sooner he’d leave. Plus, I basically already told McCoy.

There was a light tapping sound as Fletcher entered notes on his PADD. “Okay. Was that the first time he hit you?”

Every injury was a fresh memory in my mind. First a harsh grab of my wrist… then a bite on my neck (that one had been hell to cover up)… a slap on my face… blossoming bruises on my face and arms and stomach like wildflowers… fingernail marks like crescent moons… and the less than visible ones when he decided to have more fun than I wanted… but he loved me.

Charlie Myers loved me. “Charlie Myers is in love with Ailith Wood;” that’s what everyone whispered in the halls when he kissed me in public for the first time… and we made love so sweetly… his kisses were like stardust on my cheeks and wrists and neck… his touch feather-light on my bare skin… he was so gentle when he wasn’t hurting me.

“He loves me,” I whispered, ignoring the warm dew slipping down my cheeks. I clenched the sheet in my hand tighter to hide the trembling.

“Ailith,” Fletcher’s voice is gentle yet urgent, “has he hurt you before?”

I nodded.

“Alright, Ailith. Thank you for telling me. How long has he been abusing you?”

God, that word. _Abusing._ Just hearing it made me want to vomit. McCoy had turned the sounds off on the monitors, but I’m sure if they were on, they’d be too fast to be distinguishable.

“I don’t know,” I murmured, ignoring the cracks on the words. Of course, I knew. It was exactly a month after we started dating, our one-month anniversary. He’d been a little too excited to celebrate, one thing led to another, and soon I was crying out in pain. “A few months.”

“How often is he violent with you?”

I shrugged, attempting to keep my face calm regardless of the deluge of tears now streaming down my face. “A couple times a week, I guess.”

There was a tense silence and I wondered if I’d said something wrong. I heard Kirk and McCoy whispering to each other and tried my best to block their angry-sounding words from my mind.

“Okay. Do you mind giving me some examples?” Dr. Fletcher’s voice was even gentler now, if that was possible.

I folded the edge of the bedsheet onto itself. Unfolded it. Folded it. Unfolded it. The movement was repetitive and soothing. Fold. Unfold. Fold–

“Ailith? Can you give me some examples of what Charlie would do?”

Unfold. “Hit me.” Fold. “Grab me.” Unfold. “Slap me.” Fold. “Bite me.” Unfold. “He…” Fold. Unfold. “He…” Fold. Unfold.

“Did he ever do anything sexual without your consent, Ailith?” Dr. Fletcher’s voice was wrong for this conversation. It was too soft. Too light.

I nodded. Fold. Unfold.

“Okay. Thank you Ailith.” The sound of fingers on the PADD again. The whispers in the corner of the room were silent. “Why don’t we talk about what happened the day of your physical?”

Ah, yes. Let’s discuss the exact thing that made me want to die.

Dr. Fletcher cleared his throat. “Dr. McCoy has informed me that you left the examination before its conclusion. Why was that?”

I shrugged. “I don’t like physicals.”

“Could you explain to me why you don’t like them?”

“I was worried he would see the scars. And he did. So, I left.” It was easier to give him answers when I didn’t think about the words too much. He’d find out eventually, might as well just tell the truth now.

“Why not just stay then? He saw the scars, you couldn’t do anything about it, so why not just wait to see how it played out?”

“I knew he would want to talk about it. And I didn’t want to.”

“Ailith.” Dr. McCoy’s voice again suddenly, stern. “I don’t want to have to restrain you again.”

I was confused for a moment, before I focused on my hands. I’d unconsciously begun to fiddle with the IV again. I moved my hand back to the blanket, found a loose thread, and pulled lightly on it.

Dr. Fletcher again. “So, you went back to your room and… what? Did you decide to see Charlie? Is that why you were in his room?”

I hesitated for a moment, pulling more firmly on the thread. Shook my head. “I went to Charlie’s room first. He found me during his lunch break. Came back at night and we…” I stopped. _We fulfilled our promise to each other._ “I cut myself.”

“And Charlie was there when you did it?”

Nod.

“And he didn’t try to stop you?”

Another nod.

“How many times did you cut yourself, Ailith?”

“Three.”

“But there are nine cuts on your arm. Would Charlie have done that to you?”

The floodgates finally fell. I collapsed in on myself, drawing my knees up to my chest and sobbing freely. Tears streamed down my cheeks like waterfalls, my breaths were gasping, my head felt light and heavy at the same time.

I’d been trying to deny it since I woke up. But the pieces fit. That strange pressure on my arm right before I lost consciousness, Charlie’s anger when he saw me in the medbay, the extra cuts… It all fit together. But Charlie loved me.

I could hear myself babbling the words over and over again, “He loves me, he loves me, _helovesmehelovesmehelovesme_ ,” but my lips were numb. My body detached from my mind and I was vaguely aware of three voices fighting for dominance in the small space of the private room and suddenly I needed to _run._

And I would have, too. If I wasn’t frozen to the bed. My mind was racing, leaving the room as quickly as possible, but my limbs wouldn’t obey.

Finally, one voice cut through the detachment. “Hey, Lith, take some deep breaths for me, okay?” A hand clasped around mine and pulled it to something warm, something with a slight pulsing underneath. “Just pay attention to my breathing. In, and out. Slowly now. Breathe, hun.”

I found myself back in my body, no longer separate from my mind. A slightly fuzzy outline of Dr. McCoy was centered in my vision. I followed his instruction, noticing that he had pulled my uninjured hand to his chest. I took a deep breath, then another, and another… The blurriness faded, but the troubling thoughts remained.

Charlie had tried to kill me.

“Dr. McCoy, I–” I gasped.

“I know, darling. I know. Shh, just keep breathing.” He rubbed soothing circles on my back with his free hand and turned away for a moment to gesture to Kirk and Fletcher. “I’ll be out in a moment,” he murmured to them.

I clenched his hand tighter. “Don’t leave. Please.” _Don’t leave like Charlie did._

“Dr. Fletcher, the Captain, and I need to talk, Ailith.” McCoy squeezed my hand. “I’ll wait until your breathing is under control, and then I’ll have one of the nurses sit with you, okay? I’ll be back in twenty minutes, I promise.”

I nodded, ignoring the memory of my last promise.


	23. A/N: SOUNDTRACK AND UPDATE!

Hey all! Thanks for being here! I _am_ still working on this novel, so I'll be continuing to update when I get the chance. Unfortunately, I can't say for sure how frequently I will be updating, as I'm pretty tied up with school and getting ready for college, along with some other personal matters.

The good news is that I'm almost done writing! So far the story stands around 35 chapters, but that may change as I progress (it was supposed to be 25 if that gives you a hint as to how much I change my mind).

In other news, I've put together a soundtrack of songs that I either listened to while writing this story or just have elements that remind me of it. Here's the link!

https://open.spotify.com/user/mathwiz1123/playlist/2B9COJlUerfNGkHMriN8Y7?si=EImy9EoTRYauwXRbUR550w

Anyway, thank you for reading "Into Your Arms" and I hope you continue to enjoy it!


	24. zugzwang

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyyyyyy it's been a while. good news: I've written a whole bunch of chapters since you've last seen me! so i'll be posting FOUR of them right now! enjoy!

**zugzwang (n.) a situation where every possible move or decision is a bad one, or one that will result in damage or loss**

Leonard closed the door to Ailith's room slowly before leaning against it and rubbing a hand against his face. He looked through his fingers at the concerned faces of Fletcher and Kirk, letting out a breathy sigh. “Let’s talk in my office,” he mumbled as he brushed past them.

Once inside the office, Leonard fell into the chair behind his desk heavily. “Well, that was interesting,” he exhaled.

Both Kirk’s and Fletcher’s faces were tight with worry. Fletcher cleared his throat, pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, and said in a troubled voice, “How do you want to handle this, Captain?”

Kirk cleared his throat. “I’ll take care of Myers. That man has no place on my ship.” Leonard saw Kirk’s fist clench in anger as he continued. “We’re docking in Yorktown in three weeks. I’ll drop him off with the Federation and let them decide how to handle him. I’m going to push for jailtime, but ultimately, it’s not my decision. I am not exactly sure how they will deal with this… As far as I know, there hasn’t been such a troublesome matter in the history of the Federation. Obviously, we have protocols in place, but in practice, they can be a bit iffy.

“As for Lieutenant Wood…” Kirk glanced at McCoy. “Bones, I want you to do a complete examination. Find out the extent of the injuries, document all of them. Today, if possible. The more evidence we can present to the Federation, the better our chances of Myers not getting off easy.” He pulled out his PADD and tapped a few keys. “I’ve just sent you the list of operations required for this type of situation. Also, conduct whatever tests were missed during the physical.”

Leonard nodded and put on a mask of control, pushing down the feelings that were threatening to bubble over. He was angry at Myers. More than words could describe. Leonard didn’t _want_ to find out what Myers had done to Ailith but he knew he had to.

Kirk continued to address Leonard, “Be gentle. Don’t push too hard. Tell her about the arrhythmia and see if she’s willing to have the pacemaker inserted.”

Leonard raised an eyebrow. “And if she refuses?”

Kirk sighed and wrung his hands together. “We’ll get there when we get there. I don’t want anyone to be responsible for a situation that could be averted.”

Leonard interpreted this to mean that he didn’t want Ailith’s death due to cardiac arrest on his conscience. And frankly, neither did Leonard.

“As for you, Dr. Fletcher,” Kirk turned to face the small man, “I leave Ailith’s psychological treatment in your capable hands.” He bowed respectfully.

Fletcher nodded and tapped on his PADD a few times. “I can meet with her every other day to evaluate her while she’s in the medbay. Any estimate on when she’ll be released back to her quarters, Dr. McCoy?”

Leonard chuckled dryly and tried to use his best “I’m a doctor” voice. “Not for a while, doc. If she agrees to the pacemaker, I can’t perform the operation until her vitals are a bit more stable. Her body is still trying to make up from the extreme blood loss. Plus, we still need to work on getting her weight up to a normal range. The feeding tube will help, but I’m planning on keeping that in for a week or two, at least. She’ll need to be monitored constantly during that period. And let’s not forget the fact that she may still have suicidal urges.”

Fletcher nodded again. “I understand. That will make it easier to have the sessions, actually. Might I suggest reducing the use of the restraints? She’s already stressed as it is, plus if she’s monitored, there’ll be someone to stop her from acting on those urges, as you say.”

Leonard agreed and the Captain dismissed Fletcher back to his office. Kirk turned back to face Leonard as the door closed behind Fletcher. “Well, Bones,” Kirk sighed. “I’d get back in there if I were you. She needs your help in more ways than one.”


	25. yugen

**yugen (n.) a profound awareness of the universe that triggers a deep emotional response**

I was touching Andromeda. No, that’s not a euphemism.

Dr. McCoy had left me with a friendly female nurse who’d set up an interactive simulation of space around my biobed. I was currently zooming through galaxies at record speed, watching bursts of light flash by, millions of stars erupting into billions of tiny particles. It was beautiful.

I was so engrossed in examining every single star in Andromeda galaxy that I didn’t hear the door open. Nor did I hear the nearly silent exchange between the nurse and the CMO and the quiet footsteps that followed.

“Ailith,” a gentle, Southern voice said, drawing me out of my fascination.

I pressed the button the nurse had given me which dimmed the simulation. I looked to my right to see Dr. McCoy, his face freckled with the slightly faded stars.

“Hey darling.” He smiled lightly at me. “Can you turn off the simulation for a minute?”

I looked at the button regretfully and pouted.

“I know, hun,” he chuckled. “You can put it back up in a little bit; I just have to talk to you.”

I sighed dramatically and turned the sim off. The stars disappeared and I found myself craving their steadfast glow.

“Thank you,” McCoy said. He pulled a stool over to the biobed and took a seat. It took me a moment to notice that the nurse had left and it was now just the two of us in the room. “So, Ailith. The Captain, Dr. Fletcher, and I have been talking. I just wanted to keep you informed.

“I’ll be presiding over your care for the duration of your time in the medbay. I have a rough estimate of how long you’ll be here, but mostly it will depend on you.”

I cocked my head to the side, curious. “What do you mean?”

“Do you remember what I told you about your heart?”

I nodded. “Arrhythmia or whatever.”

“Right.” McCoy glanced up at the monitors on the bed, as if to check that his diagnosis was correct. He met my eyes again and continued. “It’s caused by an iron deficiency, which is due to your lack of proper eating habits. Now, we can supplement your diet until your iron levels are back up, but unfortunately, the arrhythmia won’t go away. The only cure is a pacemaker, which requires an operation to implant.”

I was shaking my head long before he finished his conversation. “No,” I said as soon as he ended his spiel. “I don’t care. I don’t want it.”

McCoy frowned. “Why not?”

I didn’t really have a good reason. I just… didn’t want it.

“Ailith,” McCoy sighed. “This is serious. If you don’t have this operation, your heart will give out from the strain.”

_Lovely. Then I can finally just die like I wanted to in the first place._ I averted my eyes and looked down at the blankets, folding and unfolding the edge like before. “Can I think about it?”

“Yeah. I’ll give you three days; does that sound good? Then we can talk more about it.” McCoy sounded hesitant, but relieved.

I nodded. Three days to decide whether I really wanted to die or not. I looked back up and met McCoy’s eyes. He smiled softly, but there was still a line of worry creased in his forehead.

There was a question lingering on the tip of my tongue. I ignored the anxiety rumbling in my chest and forced it out. “What about Charlie?”

McCoy’s eyes widened slightly before his face became a mask of calm again. “The Captain has decided to leave his fate up to the Federation. We’re dropping him off in Yorktown in a couple weeks. He won’t be on the ship anymore.”

I hummed thoughtfully, trying to sort out my emotions. I still loved Charlie, but I understood their decision. So… I was going to Yorktown with him. A couple weeks was enough time to formulate a plan. I could escape the ship with Charlie and we’d be safe together. The Federation wouldn’t charge him for what he’d done, right?

I didn’t voice these thoughts. I kept them tucked away in the back of my mind, allowed them to brew and organize themselves.

“Ailith?” McCoy’s voice broke through the thoughts. “Are you okay?”

I nodded and met his eyes again. “Yeah. I’m good. Did you need anything else?” My hand lingered over the button that would turn on the galaxy sim again. I just wanted to escape.

McCoy cleared his throat and stood. “I need to conduct a complete examination in order to determine the extent of your injuries. Would you mind if we did that now?”

My hand fell off the button as I shrugged. “Don’t really have a choice in the matter, do I?” I grumbled.

McCoy chuckled dryly and shook his head.


	26. alethiology

**alethiology (n.) the study of truth**

Leonard grabbed his PADD from the nearby desk and pulled up the list of operations that Kirk had sent him. It was quite lengthy and some of the procedures were a bit outdated, but Leonard knew how to conduct all of them, it seemed.

He swiped over to the list of questions he needed to ask, skimmed through them, and took a seat on the stool again. He looked up at Ailith and flashed her a reassuring smile. She seemed so frail on the biobed, surrounded by all the machines and wires. Leonard shook off the thought and began to ask the questions.

They were standard questions about allergies, former medical procedures, and various habits. Leonard went through them quickly, anxious to finish the exam as soon as possible. He reached the last few questions, continuing, “And when was your last menstrual cycle?”

Ailith shrugged and picked at a loose thread on the blanket. “A few weeks ago, I think. I’m not sure. They’re kind of irregular.”

Leonard was expecting this, due to her improper diet, but hearing her nonchalant tone on the topic made his heart stutter. He moved to the next question quickly, finishing the list before setting the PADD aside and picking up a small penlight.

“I’m going to shine this in your eyes to check your pupil reaction. Sit up please, legs over the edge of the bed.” He waited for her to comply before waving the light over both her eyes. They seemed to react normally for the most part, with a slight lag in her right eye. He made a memo of this on the PADD and mentally noted to perform a brain scan later.

He moved on to checking her ears, nose, and mouth, which all seemed normal, minus a slight crookedness to her nose. He’d have to check the x-ray later for broken bones.

“Okay Ailith, I’m going to start looking at different parts and searching for injuries of any kind. I’ll tell you what I’m doing before I do it.” He spoke slowly and gently, so as not to make himself misunderstood. “I’m going to touch your hands now.” Leonard took her hands in his own, turning them over to ensure that he didn’t miss anything. They seemed unscathed, but that gave him little reassurance.

“Forearms now. I’m going to take the gauze off for now.” He gently unwrapped the gauze from her right arm to inspect the cuts. Leonard hummed in satisfaction when he noted that they were healing up nicely. His eyes wandered to her left arm. There were more, albeit shaky, lines of scarring. So, either she was ambidextrous or left-handed. He turned her arm over to inspect the top and found a long, yellowing bruise spanning the length of her forearm. He tapped it questioningly and raised an eyebrow at Ailith.

“I tried to stop him,” Ailith said, her voice suddenly hoarse and gravelly.

Leonard didn’t ask for further explanation and moved onto checking her biceps, warning her of his incoming touch. Each arm had a matching set of four finger-like marks, dark purply-blue. He simply made note of them and didn’t mention them to Ailith, who was biting her lip and staring at something in the distance.

Leonard cleared his throat and said, “Can you move your gown down just a bit so I can look at your shoulders? I’m going to check for damage there.” Ailith did so and he began to palpate each in turn.

Ailith winced when he began to press on her right shoulder, and Leonard immediately stopped moving. “What is it?” he asked gently.

She met his eyes for a brief moment before flicking them away again. He noticed the dewiness present there but didn’t question it. Ailith said slowly, “It was dislocated a couple weeks back. I don’t think it ever really healed.”

Leonard frowned and pressed more gently on the shoulder. “Who put it back?”

Ailith was quiet for an instant. “I did.”

There was a tense silence as Leonard continued to probe the joint. Every now and then, Ailith shifted in pain and Leonard murmured in apology. “We’ll have to keep an eye on it. There seems to be some minor tissue damage, but nothing too crazy,” Leonard informed her as he dropped his hands. “Should be fine if you minimize movement.

“I’m going to move behind you to take a look at your back, okay?” Leonard saw Ailith nod and walked around the bed. He gently shifted the gown down so that it gathered just below her waist. He immediately noticed the ten tiny, purple crescent moons scattered on her shoulders; five on each side. Fingernails, he guessed. “Sit up straight; I need to check your spine.”

Ailith obeyed and McCoy continued, “I’m going to be running my hands down your spine to make sure everything is in place.” He pushed slightly on either side of her spine at the base of her neck and ran his hands downward, feeling for any slipped discs or other injury. He noticed nothing severe, save for the extreme tension in nearly every muscle of her back. Leonard made a mental note to order her some physical therapy as soon as she was back on her feet.

“Great,” Leonard said as he concluded the spinal exam.

“Great?” Ailith huffed.

Leonard blew a raspberry and walked around the front of the bed again. “Nothing’s wrong with your spine, is what I mean.” He entered his notes into the PADD quickly and then turned back to face Ailith, who was holding the gown just below her collarbones. “Sorry darling,” Leonard frowned in sympathy, “that’s going to have to come off so I can examine your chest and abdomen.”

Ailith hesitated and played with the hem of the gown.

“Something wrong?” Leonard took a step toward the biobed.

Ailith flinched and he stepped back again, noting her discomfort.

Leonard sat on the stool in an attempt to alleviate the tension. “I can stop if it’s too much, darling.”

Ailith shook her head hurriedly. “No, I just… it’s kind of ugly,” she whispered hoarsely.

Leonard resisted the urge to chuckle and snap back with something snarky like, “Nothing I haven’t seen.” Instead he nodded in understanding and replied, “I’ll be gentle. I promise.”

Ailith’s eyes clouded like she was looking at a distant memory. She shook herself and the look disappeared. “Okay.” Her voice was still a whisper.

Leonard stood and approached the bed slowly, watching Ailith for any signs of distress. He noticed her hands trembling, noticed how she began to fold the edge of the sheet like she had with Dr. Fletcher. He wondered if she’d always been so fidgety or if it was just a side effect of the recent trauma.

“You can keep the gown where it is for now. I’m going to check your neck, okay?” Ailith nodded and Leonard reached with two fingers to feel her pulse; not because it was necessary, but to gently accustom her to his touch. He kept an eye on the monitors, noticed a jump in her heartrate before it settled into that uneven rhythm again. He moved with care to feel the vertebrae at the back of her neck, prodding gently to search for any tender areas. All seemed well, so he removed his hands. He silently breathed a sigh of relief at the idea that Myers had never attempted to strangle the poor girl.

“I’m going to move the gown down to your waist again,” he said slowly, looking into Ailith’s eyes. She seemed to be fighting tears, but she nodded anyway.

As he dropped the gown, Leonard admired Ailith’s resolve. She’d been mostly cooperative and put together throughout all of this. Even when she seemed to lose control she was remarkably collected afterward. Leonard realized the sad truth: she must have needed to learn to hide her pain. His heart ached for her.

Leonard shook his head to dispel the feeling and cleared his throat. He finally looked at Ailith’s chest and realized why she’d called it ugly.


	27. cingulomania

**cingulomania (n.) a strong desire to hold a person in your arms**

There were multiple bruises scattered about, all in various stages of healing. Her ribs were jutting out, seeming like they could just rip through her skin if she moved too much. Leonard had noticed how underweight she was when she’d first come to the medbay, but now that he was clearheaded and she wasn’t… you know, dying... it was so obvious. How had she hidden this for so long?

There were three long scars going down the right side of her chest, reaching from the bottom of her collarbone to just above her belly button, tissue pink and puckered. They were thin, equally spaced apart, one just missing her nipple.

 _What the hell?_ Leonard thought to himself. "Can I touch these?" he asked quietly, gesturing to the scars. Ailith nodded and stared into the distance again. Leonard ran his fingers down each of them, noting the uneven healing which indicated a lack of stitching. "What happened, darling?" He kept his voice low and soothing, even though his mind was racing.

Ailith shook her head and opened her mouth to speak, before choking back a sob. Leonard noticed the tears running down her cheeks and resisted the urge to engulf her in a hug. "It's alright," Leonard reassured her. "Take your time. I won't continue until you feel okay."

Ailith took a few deep breaths then simply said, "He came to my room after a fight one day. Drunk. I don't know where he got the knife, I just..." She choked on another sob. "He told me to get on the bed and I was so scared... He tied me down and started..." She gestured vaguely to the scars.

Leonard tried desperately to keep the horror he felt off his face. "Okay darling. Thank you for telling me." He took a look at the scars again. "There's not much I can do now. I could use the regenerator to lighten them maybe?"

Ailith shook her head. "No, it's okay."

Leonard frowned. "Are you sure?"

Ailith nodded and wiped her tears on the back of her hand. She took another deep breath and said, "You can keep going. Let's just get this over with."

Leonard stayed where he was for a moment, then glanced at the monitors. Her vitals were slightly elevated, but nothing to be concerned about. "Okay. Can you lie down? I'm going to check your abdomen."

Ailith did so and Leonard continued, pushing gently on her abdomen to feel the vital organs. Nothing seemed out of place, but only a scan could confirm.

Ailith was shaking like a leaf, biting her lip and staring up at the ceiling. Leonard decided then and there to make an executive decision and continue the rest of the exam later. The poor girl had been through enough to last a lifetime. Plus, he wanted to conduct the various scans now, just in case there was something life-threatening that he’d missed.

He lifted Ailith’s gown back up over her shoulders and helped her sit up. She looked questioningly at him, wiping tears from her cheeks. “Are we done?”

Leonard hesitated before shaking his head. “I figured you could use a break. We’ll continue later, but for now I just want to conduct a few scans.”

Ailith looked undoubtedly relieved at this information.

“You can have the galaxy sim up when I do the scans, too.” Leonard offered her a small smile and she returned it as she pressed the button on her bed. Her face became cloaked with the lights of billions of stars. Leonard watched for a few moments as she stared into the cosmic abyss, her eyes glowing and her expression the most content he’d seen since she got to the medbay.

He sighed and paged a nurse to bring him the portable MRI and x-ray. The supplies came quickly and Leonard didn’t hesitate to set up the x-ray first. He pulled the machine over to the side of Ailith’s bed and tapped her shoulder to get her attention. She looked at him through the stars, dimming them slightly. “I’m gonna need you to lie down, darling,” Leonard said.

Ailith did so, speaking slowly as she got comfortable, “Can you put on some music?”

 _Odd request,_ Leonard thought to himself, but nodded anyway. “What would you like?” he asked as he pulled up the music screen on his PADD.

Ailith thought for a moment. “Have you ever heard of High Highs? They’re an old group.”

Leonard shook his head and searched for the artist. “Never. Any particular song?”

“Open Season?”

Leonard found the track and sent it to the room’s speakers. The sound of acoustic guitar strumming filled the air. Leonard watched as Ailith smiled at the familiar tune, finding himself smiling in turn. He tapped his foot to the beat as he moved the x-ray machine over Ailith’s form. He waited a few moments for the pictures to be taken before swapping it out for the MRI.

Once both scans were complete, he printed out the images. He examined the x-rays first and tried not to let his emotions show as he choked on air.

There was so much damage. It looked as if her body had been through a meat grinder.

He catalogued the findings on his PADD, counting each break.

Nose fracture.

Three broken ribs, all in different stages of healing. One that looked like it would need to be reset.

Five metacarpal fractures: two on the left hand, three on the right.

Plus, what looked like a healed stable femur fracture. How the hell she’d managed to walk on that and not be crippled with pain was beyond him.

Leonard exhaled heavily and placed the image face down on the desk. He rubbed his temples before checking the MRI, silently hoping that the results would be less severe.

Thankfully, the universe seemed to pity the good doctor. The scan showed nothing of concern. Leonard thought back to the odd lag in Ailith’s pupil reaction and double-checked the images. Nope, no sign of intracranial hemorrhaging or anything of the sort. So probably a benign condition. But he didn’t want to take any chances, so he made a note on his PADD to perform a lumbar puncture to be sure.

The current song ended and another acoustic track began to play. Leonard wasn’t sure this music was quite his style, but the look on Ailith’s face made it worth it. He allowed himself to gaze at her again, soaking in the content expression she wore.

He’d give anything to see Ailith happy like that for the rest of her life.


	28. huzun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> because i love all of you, i'm giving you one more chapter today ;)

**huzun (n.) a melancholy resulting from inadequacy or failure and weighing so heavily that it becomes communal, resigned, and even curiously poetic**

“Little pinch, sugar,” McCoy murmured.

I squeezed my eyes shut as I felt the needle enter my back. It didn’t hurt a lot, but it wasn’t comfortable either. “What’s this for again?”

“I’m checking the pressure of the fluid in your spine. It’s just to confirm the results of the MRI from yesterday. It shouldn’t take long.” McCoy spoke slowly, each word taking on a tone of intense concentration.

I frowned. “Do you not trust your own equipment? Why should you have to double-check?”

McCoy huffed but didn’t respond. I got the feeling that he didn’t like his methods being questioned.

I opened my eyes again and watched all the galaxies swirl around me. It was the most soothing thing I’d seen since getting to the medbay three days ago.

Time seemed to pass by slower here. There wasn’t much to do, and after McCoy had finished his examination, I’d been left to stew in my own thoughts. Of course, the CMO had stayed in the room to watch me, being replaced by a nurse whenever he had other patients to attend to. But they rarely bothered me except to record the results of the monitors or fidget with the feeding tube, so I looked at the stars and thought about things.

I thought about Charlie. What was he doing right now? Where had they taken him after he broke into my room? Was he thinking about me too?

I thought about how many times I’d broken down since I got here. So many times, I’d been swallowed by all the emotions I felt. I hated being so fragile.

I thought about Yorktown. Just a couple more weeks and I’d be safe with Charlie. Away from this ship, away from McCoy’s worried hazel eyes.

I thought about him too. Before this whole situation, I’d seen McCoy around the ship a few times. He always seemed gruff and bad-tempered with the rest of the crew. But for some reason, as soon as I started dying, he became gentle and caring. Even the times he got upset, like when I fiddled with my IV, he was less frightening than usual.

Now, three days later, you’d think the CMO of the Enterprise would be his usual grumpy and short-tempered self. But he wasn’t. He still called me “darling” and “sugar” – that was new.

The pinch disappeared from my back and I snapped out of my reverie just in time to hear McCoy say, “All done.” There was the sound of paper packaging ripping, and then a small square of gauze was taped onto the puncture site. “Everything looks good. You can lie back now.”

I rolled over, wincing as I felt a slight pressure on my lower back. I pressed the button to turn off the galaxy simulation and found McCoy looking at me. I raised an eyebrow questioningly but he just stood and threw his gloves and the used needle into the biohazard bag.

“How about a bath?” McCoy said out of the blue, turning back to meet my eyes again. “I’m sure it will get you feeling a bit better.”

I shrugged noncommittally. “Whatever, doc.”

He frowned and sat back down on the stool close to bed. “I’m sure you aren’t feeling too great after just sitting here for three days. Come on. I’ll have one of the nurses help you.”

“I said whatever. I really don’t care that much.” I looked down at my hands, trying to avoid his gaze. The prospect of getting all of the grime off myself was exciting, but for some reason I didn’t want to. It seemed pointless after everything I’d been through so far. Three days ago, I tried to kill myself. And now the CMO of the ship wanted me to take a bath. It felt so meaningless.

“Hey.” McCoy’s voice was softer now. “If you don’t want to it’s okay. I just thought it might help.”

I nodded and ignored the tears prickling at the corners of my eyes. God, I was crying over taking a fucking _bath_. I was such a wimp.

McCoy’s hand landed on my own. “We can try again later. How about a little stroll? Some new scenery might lift your spirits.”

I huffed out a laugh and pulled my hands out from under his, finally meeting his eyes. “Nothing on this starship is new anymore,” I said sardonically.

McCoy smirked. “I’m going to ignore that comment and say that’s a ‘yes.’ Give me a sec.” He stood and pressed a button on the wall to page a nurse. “Can you bring me a wheelchair, please?” he said into the small speaker.

“I injured my arms, not my legs!” I glared daggers in McCoy’s direction as he turned around.

The doctor stopped and straightened up to his full height. He looked quite menacing as he stood there with his arms crossed, and it took everything in me not to curl into myself a bit. “Doesn’t get rid of the fact that you were in stage 4 hypovolemic shock three days ago,” McCoy remarked matter-of-factly.

I grumbled an insult under my breath as a nurse wheeled the chair into the room. Thankfully McCoy didn’t seem to hear as he took the chair and positioned it next to the bed. “Alright, I’m going to help you out of bed.”

He helped me sit up, then placed his hand on the upper part of my torso, under my arm. “Slowly now,” he said as I swung my legs over the side of the bed. His eyes were going from my face to my legs and back again as I carefully stood. As soon as I put pressure on my feet, my knees buckled and I would have fallen had the doctor not been there.

“Thanks,” I said breathlessly as he caught my torso with both his hands and set me in the wheelchair.

“Glad you didn’t decide to walk, huh?” McCoy huffed, grabbing the bag connected to my feeding tube and hanging it off the chair, along with the IV bag.

I looked at him disdainfully and shook my head as he walked behind the chair. “Watch it, doc; I might change my mind.”


	29. cynefin

**cynefin (n.) a place where a person or an animal feels it ought to live and belong; it is where nature around you feels right and welcoming**

McCoy wheeled me around the ship mostly in silence, stopping only to ask if I was comfortable. We wandered around the gardens for a bit, quietly observing the strange plants from other planets. Some were small and delicate, brightly colored and flourishing. Others were dull and wilting, drooping over the sides of their pots. There was one that smelled like a fresh tube of toothpaste and one that smelled like rotting flesh. McCoy wheeled me away from the latter very quickly.

After we grew bored of the garden, McCoy stopped in the middle of the hallway to think about where to go next. He furrowed his eyebrows and stared at the wall, face the ideal image of concentration.

Suddenly, his eyes lit up and he took control of the chair yet again. He seemed eager to get to our destination, a childlike grin plastered on his face. The wheels of the chair bumped slightly over the floor panels, creating a steady cadence of sound.

After about ten minutes of twisting through hallways and taking elevator rides, McCoy stopped outside a set of double doors.

“Close your eyes,” he said, walking around to the front of the wheelchair.

I grumbled in complaint, marveling at his juvenile excitement. But nevertheless, I followed his order, a part of me eager to see what he had in store. I heard the sound of the doors opening and then felt the chair moving again. It stopped just as quickly as it had started. There was the sound of footsteps, a subtle beeping, and then silence again.

Then McCoy’s voice, close to my ear. “Open your eyes, Lith.”

The sight before me was unlike any I had ever seen. There was nothing in the room, only a large glass window taking up the entirety of one of the walls. And beyond that, the entire universe.

Stars everywhere, galaxies swirling in a heavenly dance, comets racing each other across the sky. Constellations I knew by heart and some I’d never seen before.

I couldn’t help the small gasp of amazement that escaped my lips. McCoy chuckled behind me and pushed me closer to the glass. I reach out to place my hand against it, wanting to be among those celestial bodies, chasing the comets and waltzing with the galaxies.

The slight touch of my hand brought a glow to the glass, and I withdrew it quickly in shock. McCoy came around to crouch next to me, smiling slightly. “May I?” he asked, reaching for my hand. I hesitated, then let him take it.

He brought my fingers to the glass again and traced a circle around a cluster of stars. A blue glow followed my fingers and surrounded the stars.

A pleasant-sounding feminine voice came from the ceiling. “The Pleiades star cluster. Also known as the Seven Sisters or Messier 45. Would you like some more information?”

I shook my head in wonder and traced another group of stars.

“The Hyades star cluster. Also known as Melotte 25 or Collinder 50. Would you like to know more?”

McCoy spoke up. “No. Computer, find earth.”

The glass wavered for a moment, the images of the stars turning fuzzy. Then, the stars rushed past the window and the blue and green planet came into view. It spun slowly on its axis, constant and familiar.

“Computer,” I tried, “find Andromeda galaxy.”

The screen wavered again before settling on the familiar spiral.

“Andromeda was a figure in Greek mythology.” McCoy’s voice was quiet.

“Yes, I know,” I replied, staring at the gently turning arms of the galaxy.

“She was chained to a rock and destined to be killed by a sea monster. She had no escape.”

“Yes.”

McCoy swallowed, and for a moment, his face flashed with an emotion I couldn’t identify. “She almost died.”

I looked back out the window. “I know.”

A gentle hand landed on my cheek. I didn’t turn away. A thumb came to wipe away the tears that I hadn’t realized had fallen.

McCoy cupped my chin with his hand and turned my head to look at him. I let out a heavy breath, meeting his hazel eyes. He scanned my face, eyes filled with so many emotions. “Who will save you from your monster, Lith?”

The dam broke, the floodgates falling open again. McCoy’s hand fell as I curled into myself, crying and whimpering helplessly. I cradled my injured arm to my chest, recalling all the hurt that I had endured.

Suddenly, I was lifted out of the wheelchair and held against a warm chest. It vibrated comfortingly as McCoy spoke, whispering soft words into my ear. “I’m so sorry, darling,” he murmured. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

He sat on the floor, still holding me close, and we stayed like that long after I had stopped crying. Andromeda’s image watched over us, bathing us in the light of the stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i legit almost starting crying when i was writing this chapter. it's been a rough couple of days and writing this was a sort of release for me. idk i wish i had my own mccoy to cuddle me


	30. quondam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and now, presenting....
> 
>  
> 
> aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaangst

**quondam (adj.) belonging to sometime long past, but no longer**

The next day, I finally agreed to take a bath. Despite how senseless it seemed, I couldn’t help but be excited at the prospect of washing off the stresses of the past few days.

A nurse, introduced as Lexi, helped me walk to the specially made physio showers, then made me sit on a plastic stool for the duration of the washing. I protested slightly at first, then felt the true weakness in my legs as I continued to stand. I stopped complaining and complied with everything Lexi told me.

She was a kind and young woman, resembling a girl I’d known once at the academy. She didn’t seem uncomfortable with the prospect of helping me bathe, but merely worked professionally and efficiently.

I appreciated the fact that she didn’t mention the scars or bruises.

When we’d finished, she helped me change into a pair of clean scrubs, sat me down in front of a mirror, and set to work on combing my hair.

It was the first time I had seen myself since getting to the medbay. The bruise on my jaw had now turned to an ugly yellow-green color. The feeding tube ran from my nostril across my cheek, held in place by a small square of tape. But what really caught me by surprise was my hair. I’d completely forgotten what I’d done before… the incident, but now I could see it.

My once waist-long brown hair was now only inches long, sprouting off from my scalp in every direction. I choked down a gasp and stared at my reflection.

Lexi must have sensed my discomfort because she met my eyes in the mirror and smiled gently. “I can make it look a little more presentable,” she offered, her tone light.

It took me a moment to find my voice. “Really?”

Lexi nodded. “When I was younger, I wanted to be a hairdresser. But I didn’t have enough money to pay for all the years of schooling. So, I took a few classes until the funds ran out. Then I joined Star Fleet and got my med training. But I still give my girlfriends haircuts when they need them.”

I barely thought about it before saying, “Okay. Thank you.”

She set off to find a pair of scissors and a blow-dryer, returning in a few short minutes. I was glad to not be left alone with my thoughts for too long.

I sat as still as I could while she parted my hair to the left, a stark contrast from my normally center-parted hair. But I supposed that almost anything would be a stark contrast to what I used to be like.

Lexi worked quickly and silently. I watched her in the mirror as she bit her lip in concentration, measuring sections of hair against each other, snipping wispy bits away when necessary.

She finished trimming and blow-dried my hair, using the comb to keep the sections straight. Finally, she set down the tools and smiled at me in the mirror. “Tada!” Her eyes sparkled with pride at her handiwork. “What do you think?”

I ran my hands through my hair slowly, trying to determine if my reflection was really my own. The top section of my hair was longer and swept to the right, like a sort of faux bang, while the rest was cropped shorter to about an inch long.

I let out a long breath of amazement, meeting Lexi’s eyes. “Thank you,” I murmured, my hands still combing through the short locks.

She patted me on the shoulder and smiled. “No problem. Now come on; Dr. McCoy wants to see you for some physical therapy.”

I grimaced and turned to face Lexi. “Really?”

Her face fell in confusion. “Yeah… Is that a problem?”

I frowned. “Why him? He’s not a physical therapist or anything.”

“No, but he is your primary care doctor. He knows exactly what you need and when you need it. I’m not going to question that.”

I grumbled out a complaint and accepted Lexi’s outstretched hand to stand. My muscles were still weak from disuse, but I managed to get up and walk back to my private room without (much) faltering, my IV stand trailing behind. When we arrived, McCoy was nowhere to be seen. I sent up a silent prayer of relief.

I hadn’t really had a chance to process what happened on the observation deck the day before. I’d fallen asleep in the doctor’s arms and when I’d woken up, I was back in my bed in the medbay. It was morning, and Lexi had come in to offer to help me bathe. I still hadn’t seen McCoy since yesterday.

“I’ll go grab the doctor,” Lexi said, helping me up onto the biobed.

I nodded silently and looked down at my hands. The bandages around my wrist had been removed this morning, the dermal regenerator used to lighten the scarring. I had stopped McCoy before the scars could disappear completely but didn’t offer an explanation.

McCoy had also said that he was going to not put the restraint on my bicep. I was grateful for that, but wondered what had brought about the change.

Truthfully, I still felt the urge to harm myself. I didn’t know why; I guess it was a lingering habit. Unfortunately, everything that I could use to do so was either removed from the room or locked away in the cabinets.

The door opened again and I looked up to see McCoy strolling inside the room. “Hey Ailith.” He smiled lightly and sat down on the rolling stool, pushing himself closer to the bedside.

“Hey,” I mumbled, deftly avoiding his eyes.

“I like the haircut.”

“Thanks.”

I could hear McCoy’s fingers tapping lightly on his PADD. He hummed lightly to fill the near-silence. I recognized the song as the one I had requested during his examination yesterday.

“I’m going to be starting off your physio today.” McCoy set his PADD down on the desk and stood. “Eventually, I’ll have one of the nurses do it, but no one has been briefed on your condition yet. We’re trying to keep this under wraps for the most part.”

“Thanks,” I repeated, still avoiding his eyes.

McCoy frowned and used his fingers to lift my chin so I was forced to look at him. “Hey. Are you alright?”

I pulled away from his touch and nodded. “Fine.”

McCoy huffed and told me to lie down on my stomach. I obeyed wordlessly, placing my head on the pillow as he spoke. “We’re going to just start off slow. No actual work yet. I’m just going to massage your muscles and try to release some of the tension.”

My eyes flew wide in surprise at this. Physical therapy was just going to be getting a massage? I wouldn’t be complaining, except the idea of McCoy’s hands on me was too off-putting.

“Try to relax, sugar,” he murmured before I could protest. He placed two fingers at the nape of my neck and pressed down gently, rubbing in small circles. His hands were warm and soft, kneading out the tense muscles.

I mostly zoned out during the massage, trying to ignore how uncomfortable I was as he pushed my shirt up and wandered his hands across my back. He, thankfully, skipped over the parts that were tender from bruising or where my ribs were fractured. However, I could hardly relax due to my anxious thoughts.

Having a man’s hands all over me again was unsettling. I didn’t expect to react like this, but here I was. I could feel my heart racing, pounding out of my chest unsteadily. But evidently, McCoy never noticed, because his hands continued to roam across my skin.

Up until this point, I’d known that his touch was purely clinical. And I’m sure it was still, but my mind kept screaming danger to me. My breath hitched as his hands ran across the small of my back.

_The pressure on my bare back of someone standing too close behind me. The musky smell of his cologne._

_“Love me. Show me you love me.”_

_A break in my rapid breathing as his hand wrapped around me and traced the scars he’d left. Down from my collarbone to my stomach. A featherlight touch that wandered too far, too low._

_My voice, trapped in my throat like an animal in a cage. Finally breaking free, albeit weakly. “I love you, Charlie.”_

_“I know you do, sweetheart.”_

“Are you alright, sweetheart?”

And there it was. I pushed off the bed quickly, my heart racing, my breathing like that of a horse in a race. I was a stallion, caught by ropes and bucking wildly to escape. I flipped over and brought my arms up to protect myself from the danger. My fist made contact with skin, there was a groan, and I leapt off the bed. The IV ripped itself from my arm, and the feeding tube bag ripped from its stand. It trailed behind me as I raced to the door, leaking synthetic nutrient formula on the floor.

I tried to run out the door, tried to escape, but it wouldn’t open. I scratched my nails against it in a futile attempt, ignoring the ache that blossomed from my weak legs. I let out a garbled sound, completely consumed by animal instinct.

“Ailith.”

The voice was too close, too dangerous. I whirled around and placed my hands in front of my face defensively. “Please,” I choked out. “Don’t hurt me. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” I sank down to the floor, making myself as small as possible. “Please don’t hurt me.”


	31. catharsis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more aaaaaaaaaaaangst

**catharsis (n.) the process of releasing, and thereby providing relief from, strong or repressed emotions**

Leonard clapped a hand up to his face, white-hot agony searing through the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t stop Ailith as she leapt off the biobed, too engulfed in his own pain to notice her attempts to escape the room. He was glad that he had the good sense to set the door to only open for med staff.

He reached for the desk and rifled in one of the drawers for a hypo with his free hand, quickly stumbling upon one that contained painkillers and a vasoconstrictor. He plunged it into his own neck and quickly tossed it aside, waiting for the blood he felt to step flowing from his nose. Once it had, he turned to look at Ailith again. She was scrabbling against the door, letting out strange animal-like cries. He said her name and she whirled on him.

Leonard watched helplessly as she dropped to the floor, begging him not to hurt her. He wanted to reach for her, to hold her in his arms, but he didn’t know what had caused the outburst and did not wish to exacerbate it. Instead, he crouched where he stood, still a few feet away, and tried to make himself look less threatening. He could tell that this was some sort of instinctual drive to escape, most likely due to a flashback to some threatening situation.

He kept his voice as quiet and gentle as possible. “I’m not going to hurt you. We’re in the medbay. You’re safe here.”

She stopped speaking but let out a small whimper.

“It’s okay.” Leonard reached his hand out slowly, palm face up, in a conciliatory gesture. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

She looked up into his eyes, cocking her head to one side. There were no tears, just a fear and brokenness gleaming in her irises. Suddenly, something snapped in her and her eyes widened. “Oh my god. Oh my god.” She curled up into herself even more, keeping her gaze locked on Leonard.

“Hey, it’s alright.” He could tell that she had broken out of her reverie and he shuffled toward her, staying low to the ground. “You’re okay now.”

He was only a foot away when she finally looked away. “I’m sorry, Dr. McCoy. I guess I wasn’t ready to handle that.” She sniffed lightly.

“Hey, don’t apologize.” He fought the urge to reach out and touch her, knowing that it may shock her again. “I should’ve told you what I was doing and made sure you were feeling up to it. It’s my fault.”

“I broke your nose,” she murmured, staring at the mentioned appendage.

Leonard barked out a gruff laugh, looking at his bloodied hand. “No sugar, it was just a nosebleed. I’d know if it was broken.”

Ailith met his eyes again. “I’m scared, Dr. McCoy,” she whispered.

He furrowed his brow and folded his legs underneath him to be more comfortable, careful not to sit in the nutrient formula that spilled from the feeding tube bag. He could tell this conversation might take a while. “What are you scared of?”

“Everything. You. I don’t want to be but for some reason I am and I just can’t help it and sometimes this all seems like so much and I just don’t want to be here anymore-”

“Slow down, darling,” Leonard urged, noting her rapid breathing. “Deep breaths.”

Ailith nodded and took a few steady inhales before continuing. “I know how much you’ve helped me; I swear. But my brain still thinks that you’re going to hurt me, just like… like…”

Leonard nodded. “I understand.”

“And being in the medbay is still scary too. It’s too loud when I want it to be quiet and it’s too quiet when I don’t want to be alone with my thoughts. And I feel so helpless down here, like I have no freedom and I can’t do anything. Before… what happened, I could just go wherever. When I needed a break from Charlie, I’d go to engineering. I’d talk to Scotty. When I didn’t want to be in engineering, I’d go to my room. And when I didn’t want to be alone, I could go to Charlie.

“But now, Charlie can’t see me. And I can’t leave the medbay. I feel trapped. And I know it’s not anyone’s fault except my own, because I did this to myself.” She held out her right arm and stared at the slightly faded scars. “I used to have control of my own life. I cut to have control over my emotions. I starved myself to have control over my body. And when things got to be too much, I could go to Charlie and just put the control in someone else’s hands. But _I_ decided that. When I didn’t want control, I made that choice.

“Now, I’m here, in this room.” Leonard could hear the anger seeping into her voice. “I can’t cut anymore. My emotions are all over the place and I can’t do anything about it. You’ve taken away my coping mechanism and now I’m alone with my thoughts. I can’t starve myself because you’ve got this _fucking_ tube in me!” She was nearly shouting now. “And I can’t do what I want to do or go where I want to go or even decide when I want to take a fucking bath because you have _forced_ me to lose control!

“And I just learned that my boyfriend, the man that I relied on, the man that I _loved_ , tried to murder me. And now everyone is telling me that he _didn’t_ love me. And that I was too blind to see it.” She paused and looked Leonard straight in the eye with a ferocity that nearly sent him toppling over. “And you. You care _so much_ and you’re so gentle, and I want to love you but every time I try, all I see is _him_ and I lose my fucking mind!” She stopped with a gasp.

Leonard looked at her in shock, his mouth hanging open slightly. He eventually realized what he must look like and shut his mouth. He tried to think about what to say, but came up empty. He needed help. “Do you mind if I call Dr. Fletcher? I think we should talk about this with him.”

Ailith frowned. “So now you’re just going to push me off to someone else? You don’t want me to be your problem anymore?”

“No!” Leonard started rapidly. “I’m not pushing you off. I just… I think, since Dr. Fletcher is handling your psychological care, he should be here to determine the next steps.” He took a deep breath. “I don’t want you to feel trapped, Ailith. And I certainly don’t want you to feel like you don’t have any control. I didn’t realize I was stifling you.”

The anger fell off Ailith’s face as she began to understand. Leonard sighed in relief. “I’m sorry,” Ailith said. “I didn’t mean to blow up on you like that. I just wanted to get it all out.”

“I know, sugar,” Leonard responded reassuringly.

Ailith sniffed. She still hadn’t cried. Leonard could finally understand what she meant when she said her emotions were all over the place. “It’s been a really shit week, Dr. McCoy,” she murmured.

Leonard laughed without any humor. “Yeah, it has.”


	32. sisu

  **sisu (n.) an extraordinary determination in the face of adversity**

McCoy and I talked to Dr. Fletcher for hours. We talked about how I wanted to cut still, and how I felt powerless and alone. It was a long and strenuous session, but it came with a lot of good, too.

I would now be allowed to help in the medbay. Only simple tasks, ones that didn’t require immense physical or mental effort. But it would give me the opportunity to get out of my room and start doing things again, while McCoy could still monitor me.

We’d talked about other coping mechanisms I could use besides cutting. I could take ice from the cooler in the medbay and hold it against my wrist if I was feeling out of control. I had full access to the galaxy simulation if I needed to calm down. I had a “safe room” now. Technically an empty storage closet in the medbay, I could go there if I was feeling overwhelmed, since the door to my room was still set to open only for medical personnel.

Dr. Fletcher had set up a time when I could meet with Scotty. It would have to be in the medbay and under supervision, but it gave me a chance to catch up with him.

We’d talked about the feeding tube as well. Unfortunately, it couldn’t be removed yet, but McCoy had said that I could start eating solid foods on my own. The feeding tube would be used to deliver supplemental nutrients that I couldn’t regain fast enough. The IV that I had accidentally ripped out would remain removed, at least for now.

I was still on the fence about the pacemaker, still feeling less than happy to be alive. I’d have to make a decision tomorrow, the agreed three-day grace period expiring then.

We talked about what had caused my flashback. Discovered that I had multiple triggers which led to the panic attack, including prolonged touch (especially with a male), decreased visibility, and the word “sweetheart.”

We didn’t talk about my accidental profession of my love for Dr. McCoy or what happened on the observation deck. McCoy hadn’t mentioned it. Neither had I. So, it didn’t come up.

When Dr. Fletcher left, it was just McCoy and me. He started talking first.

“So, I can show you what needs to be done in the medbay. But first, I wanted to talk about physio.” I groaned but McCoy remained straight-faced. “It’s going to have to happen at some point. Now, I can do your sessions or I can have someone else help. If I do them, I’ll make sure to keep you informed of what I’m doing and I’ll never put you in a position that makes you feel vulnerable. Or someone else could help, like one of the female nurses, which means they’d be briefed on your condition. But you may feel more comfortable with a female than me.”

I sat silently on the biobed for a moment, running my palms over the fabric of the scrubs that I’d changed into after the bath this morning. I’d rather _not_ have so many people know about my situation. But at the same time, I didn’t know how I would react to McCoy touching me all the time. I supposed I’d have to get used to it eventually.

Screw it. Let’s take a leap of faith.

“I’m okay with you doing it,” I murmured, glancing up at McCoy’s face.

He smiled gently. “Okay. Once you decide on the pacemaker, we’ll pick up the physio again. For now, let’s just focus on making you feel more comfortable here.” He stretched out his hand to me to help me down from the biobed.

I took it hesitantly, keeping an eye on his countenance the entire time. There was no sign of an ulterior motive, just a kind, yet clinical, concern. I stepped down and steadied myself quickly, using the bed as a support.

McCoy nodded approvingly, releasing my hand. “Good. Your coordination is already getting better. I was worried that you might be weak from the blood loss, but it seems your body is compensating faster than I expected.”

“Resilience,” I stated quickly. “You learn to recover fast when you’re hurt a lot.”

McCoy quirked an eyebrow in that special way of his. I shrunk into myself a little as I realized what I said. I just had a way of screwing things up. “Sorry,” I muttered.

McCoy shook his head. “Don’t apologize.” He looked away for a minute. “If you ever want to say anything… anything at all, don’t hesitate. I won’t judge.”

The statement caught me by surprise. I’d been measuring my words carefully up until this point, always cautious of what I was going to say and what the consequences would be. With Charlie, I never allowed myself to say what was on my mind unless I knew it was absolutely acceptable. I supposed that instinct carried on to all my interactions.

“Thanks,” I replied. “I guess I should work on being a little more open, right?”

McCoy smiled and looked back at me. His hazel eyes shone with compassion. “One thing at a time, darling. Why don’t we see what you can work on outside?”

…

The day seemed to pass by much quicker than the rest. Before, when I was only in my room, I’d been bored. The days had dragged on, and even though I was only on day four of wakefulness, it felt like weeks. I suppose today might have felt shorter because I didn’t actually start working until late afternoon, but I was still glad for a distraction.

After filing the last of the paperwork that McCoy had given me, I walked slowly over to his office, sticking close to the wall in order to steady myself if need be. I rapped on the door gently, waiting for him to come out.

I heard shuffling from inside before the door opened to a worn-down looking McCoy. His hair was ruffled and his eyes were shadowed by dark circles. “Oh, Ailith,” he said, standing up a little straighter. “Did you finish that paperwork?”

I nodded and fidgeted with my hands. “Do you need me to do anything else?”

McCoy ran a hand over his face. “Um, no darling. I’ll come open up your room for you.”

“Thanks.”

McCoy walked over to my room, his feet dragging wearily.

“Rough day?” I questioned as he opened the door.

McCoy shrugged. “They’re all rough here.”

I followed him inside the room and hopped up onto the biobed, bringing my knees up to my chest. “I’m sorry for being a burden. I’m sure you had other things to do the past few days, but you’ve been in here taking care of me.” I sucked in a deep breath. “Thank you.”

McCoy glanced at me before sitting down on the stool. “You’re not a burden, sugar. You’re under my watch, and I’m going to take care of you until I don’t have to anymore.”

I smiled shyly. I hated to admit it, but the doctor was growing on me. I used to think he was a gruff and angry southern man, but now I could see he was more than that. He was truly concerned about the people in his care, even if they did test his patience.

McCoy stood again. “Get some sleep. You’ve got a big decision to make tomorrow.”

I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to ignore the anxiety bubbling up in my chest. I’d nearly forgotten about the pacemaker, the work from today having distracted me from my previous troubles. But I supposed I could only hide from it for so long.

“Hey.” McCoy’s voice was gentle and soothing. I opened my eyes to see him standing closer to me, eyes kind. “It’s alright. We’ll talk about it together. I’m not going to let you deal with this alone.”

“Thank you,” I whispered, the anxiety still present but less consuming.

McCoy glanced at the screen displaying my vitals. “Want something to help you sleep? You seem a little on edge.”

I nodded and settled back onto the bed, curling up on my side. My mind was racing with unspoken thoughts, but I pushed them back as much as possible.

McCoy retrieved a hypo from the desk, prepped it, and held it up to confirm that I still wanted it. I nodded and closed my eyes.

“Just a bit of a pinch here.” I felt the sting of the hypo and then McCoy gently rubbed the injection site, soothing the pain. Then McCoy’s voice again as I drifted into darkness, “Sleep well, Lith. See you in the morning.”


End file.
